Call Me Home
by Kurohane Ookami
Summary: Bilba "Bell" Baggins decides that she's waited quite long enough to take her mother's advice and old stories and go on an adventure of her own. What she didn't expect was to end up in Ered Luin and be adopted by dwarves! Fem!Bilbo AU, Pre-Quest, Undecided Pairings.
1. In a Quiet Moment

Inspired by a prompt I stumbled upon by _lateforerebor_ on tumblr.

 **Summary: Bilba "Bell" Baggins decides that she's waited quite long enough to take her mother's advice and old stories and go on an adventure of her own. What she didn't expect was to end up in Ered Luin and be adopted by dwarves! AU, Pre-Quest, Undecided Pairings.**

-;-

When Bilba Baggins finally decided to about adventuring, the seasons were just beginning to change from the gentle warmth of the spring to the heat of midsummer. One day, she simply packed her mother's old bag with the simplest of necessities, left a note on the door stating that she would return eventually, and set off.

She first set out north, crossing the White Downs and stopping at the Grey Havens. It was a beautiful place, and was fortunate as to meet several elves along the path. Growing up with tales of the elves from her mother, Bilba was absolutely fascinated by anything that they spoke of, and would indulge her questions, which at times surely seemed endless. However, they were travelling west for a reason, and as they set sail for the Undying Lands she could not help but shed a tear for them, having befriended them in her travels.

From there, the Hobbit lass turned south, travelling further along the coast and entering the lands of Harlindon. Elves had once dwelled amongst the plentiful place, but had evidently moved on, as she met no one in the strangely peaceful forests and plains, and in the dwellings she passed by.

It was then that she took in the mountains on the far horizon- Ered Luin, the Blue Mountains. Home to a dwarven colony that had- if her mothers were correct- taken refuge there some years before. And so, Bilba tossed her mane of copper curls over her shoulder, narrowed her hazel eyes, and started back east.

By now, the summer months were in full, and it wouldn't be long before they tapered off and the harvesting season would be upon the Shire. As she travelled, Bilba couldn't help but think of everything that her neighbors would be up to. No doubt Hamfast Gamgee would be beside himself if he allowed her garden to wane as the leaves turned brilliant hues of orange and yellow. The farmers would take to the orchards to pick apples, and there would be no shortage of sweet apple cider or apple pies.

She would miss it this year, she mused. But she would not dwell on it. She was a lass of forty and nine, and she wanted to go on an adventure before her half century next summer.

It took a full seven days for Bilba to approach the Blue Mountains, and she could not help but think them incredible to behold. Large, craggy peaks, small hills, and everything in between comprised the range, with a lush forest surrounding the southern edges. Thankfully, there was a road that ran through the southern forest that looped back up to the eastern side, where the settlement was located.

During one particular night, as she sat upon a log in a surprisingly large clearing puffing away on her Old Toby, Bilba couldn't help but think of her mother. Belladonna Baggins, who was a Took in all but name after marrying her father Bungo, had been such a free spirit. Her father, she recalled, had spent just as much time attempting to wrangle his wife as he did her when she was a faunt. More often than not, Belladonna would get into just as much, if not more mischief than she ever could hope to achieve.

A smile twisted her lips at the thought. Oh, how she'd grown into such a stiff and traditional Hobbit lass since her parents had passed. Such things were almost expected, however. It had not been easy, watching her vibrant mother fall ill, and eventually pass on. It had been harder to watch her father live on, though he had passed soon after- a broken heart, Bilba was certain, even if there had been others saying that it was simply his time.

Puffing out a final smoke ring, she put out her smouldering pipeweed and tucked in for the evening.

-;-

It took another day of full travelling before Bilba entered the city of the Blue Mountains. Dwarves on all sides awaited in a trade circle, full of laughter and warmth. It was clear that they were close, as the familiar ways that they greeted one another in their rough, gravelly tongue and shoulder slaps. In another circumstance, she witnessed a pair grasp the other's shoulders and head-butt- something that she had let out an involuntary squeak before flushing and hurrying along, drawing her cloak around her in hopes that no one would approach her and do the same.

So deep in thought she fell, as she took in the stone crafted buildings and streets, that she was almost bowled over by a massive dwarf who stormed out of a building to her right, hurling snarled words over his shoulder and throwing something that looked suspiciously like a knife back at the building.

Bilba barely even had time to jolt out of the way, her heart feeling as though it were about to beat right out of her chest.

Another dwarf was standing on the small porch that lined the front of the building, a snarl curling his own features as he spat back in their tongue. When the other had finally disappeared, the silver haired dwarf finally noticed Bilba.

"Oh my. I am terribly sorry about that, madam. A right foul tempered creature, he was- and a cook, no less. But none of that. Please, do come in."

Bilba hesitated, looking over the building. It was a single floor, as were most of the buildings that seemed to occupy this part of the city, with little decoration on the surface save for the sign that hung above the door. An intricately carved goose in flight was suspended in the wood, and she couldn't help but smile, reminded of the geese that journeyed overhead in the autumn.

"Thank you." She finally said, taking the opportunity for what it was- she was exhausted, and perhaps this dwarf would be able to point her in the right direction for lodgings of some sort.

"Of course, of course. Please, sit. Would you like a cup of tea?" the silver haired dwarf inquired, following the Hobbit into the warm interior of the building. Given how cool the mountains were, it was a welcome gift.

"Oh, no, I couldn't possibly-" Bilba tried.

"Please, it is the least I can do for you- you look absolutely exhausted." He insisted, his features earnest as he directed her to a small table near the back of the room, closest to a small kitchen and the bar. "I'll be right back."

Bilba sighed and resigned herself to her fate, though she could honestly say that she was relieved to finally rest her aching feet. While Hobbits feet were far more hardy than normal folk, the amount of travelling that she had put herself through was taking its toll. And oh, to sit upon something softer than the moss and hard ground from these past weeks!

Soft murmurs from the others in the tavern- for that was what she assumed it to be- drew her attention, and Bilba took a moment to appreciate the companionable atmosphere. Large rugs decorated most of the surfaces available- namely the floor, though there were several tapestries and delicate weavings hanging from the walls and suspended overhead. Windows decorated the walls sparsely, soft amber light from the sunset shining through- it was almost like being in a smial again.

"Ah, here we are, my dear." The silver haired dwarf returned, placing two earthenware mugs down and producing a beautifully painted green teapot. "I'm afraid I still haven't introduced myself. I am Dori, son of Ri, owner of this establishment- at your service."

Bilba straightened herself, silently berating her for her terrible manners.

"I am Bilba Baggins of the Shire, at yours, Master Dori." She replied, watching the silver haired dwarf as he carefully poured tea into her mug and then his own, taking the seat opposite her and cradling his mug.

"Oh, there is no need for the formality, Miss Bilba." Dori chuckled, waving her off. "I am but a humble tea master who somehow managed to turn a teashop into a tavern. Inevitable, I suppose, but nonetheless it pays enough to put food on the table."

"Though it seems you are down one cook." She offered tentatively, earning a faint snort and a scowl.

"Aye." He agreed before a call came from in the kitchen. "Pardon me a moment."

He hurried off, and a flurry of foreign words were exchanged before silence fell. Bilba, against her better judgement and her rather potent curiosity, couldn't help but get up and poke her head around the corner of the kitchen. Warm, earthy scents assaulted the tired Hobbit's nose, and she inhaled contentedly before taking in the harried looking dwarf that was single-handedly chopping vegetables as though his life depended on it. There was no sign of Dori- perhaps he had stepped out for a moment- but all Bilba could think of was her Hobbit-y manners.

"Excuse me." She inquired, carefully stepping into the room and earning a slightly concerned look from the cook, "do you need some help with those?"

"Nay lass." The heavy accented tone of the dwarf replied, eying her up. "Though if you've a moment there'll be some root veg'tables that need peelin'."

"It would be my pleasure, Master…?" Bilba replied, rolling up her sleeves and rinsing her hands in the tub available.

"Rorin, son of Borin." The dwarf replied, his thickly braided beard shifting as he offered her a warm grin.

"A pleasure. Bilba Baggins." She introduced, quickly making herself at home across the counter from Rorin and getting to work. "It seems as though you're down a dwarf- I'm happy to help."

"Aye." The larger dwarf replied, rather charmed by the small female that had suddenly made herself at home in his kitchen. "I thank ye, Miss Baggins."

"Oh, none of that. It's Miss Bilba or Bilba." The Hobbit scoffed, her fingers nimbly moving the short blade around a potato. "Now, you just direct me to what you need done and I'll do my best to do it."

"That sounds mighty fine, Miss Bilba." Rorin grinned before returning to his work, slightly less harried than the moments before.

-;-

Dori returned from his business out in the alley huffily, wondering when on earth fights would stop starting there.

Upon re-entering his tavern, he frowned at seeing the table that he had left the Hobbit empty, her bag still next to the seat.

How odd. Perhaps she had gone to relieve herself.

It wasn't until his barkeep, a pleasant fellow by the name of Gard, gestured him over with a faint smile on his features.

"Yer lass is churning out food like no tomorrow." He said, jutting a thumb towards his kitchen. "Jus' wandered in and started helping Rorin. Rather friendly sort, she is."

"In the kitchen?" Dori asked faintly. Oh no, no, his kitchen was sacred and only those pre-approved by him were allowed to cook in there! He ran a tight ship- he didn't need any strange lass from the Shire stepping in a doing who knows what to his dishes!

"Aye, and somehow managing to keep Rorin right on track, to boot." Gard chuckled lowly. "From what I gather, she's preppin' and servin' the dishes. The lads appreciate the effort- Kildar was never so friendly with them."

Some of the tension bled out of Dori at the news, and he turned as the Hobbit exited the kitchen, trays evenly balanced on her hands and forearms as she nimbly navigated the room, depositing the dishes right where they belonged and awarding the men with a warm smile.

At catching sight of Dori, the small lass strode over, her features twisting into an apologetic expression.

"I'm sorry for stepping in like that, Master Dori, I just couldn't help but notice that poor Master Rorin was attempting to keep up with everything on his own and I offered to help and I completely understand if you would like me to leave." Bilba said in a rush, ducking her head slightly and adjusting the skirts she was wearing. Despite the dirt and grime on her, her appearance was oddly endearing, and Dori couldn't help but sigh and shake his head.

"It seems as though no harm has been done, and so I shall forgive you, Miss Bilba. I can't help but notice your skill with serving."

"Oh, that." She chuckled. "I used to serve at the tavern in Hobbiton when I was younger."

"Hm." Dori nodded, an idea coming to mind. "Miss Bilba, would you perhaps consider working here during your stay? It would only be as long as it takes to find another cook."

"Me? Work here?" she squeaked. "Master Dori, I am honored, but I'm afraid I must find accommodations before I could consider taking you up on your generous offer!"

"I have a room free at my home at the moment- my younger brother Nori's- if you would help in the kitchens here, you are welcome to it for however long you might stay in Ered Luin."

It was Nori's room, but the blasted creature was never home long enough to use it anyway, so Dori felt confident enough in offering it to the pleasant lass before him. There was something oddly endearing about her demeanor, something that perhaps reminded him of Ori just enough to offer such a thing.

She gaped at him a long moment before a smile slowly crept across her features.

"Master Dori, I would be happy to accept your offer." She beamed at him, offering a hand to shake, which he did with pleasure.

"Well then, off you go." He shooed. "I'll take care of your bag until we're ready to leave."

Bilba nodded, curtsied briefly, and scurried back to the kitchen with one of the brightest smiles the silver haired dwarf had ever seen on her admittedly fair features.


	2. To Start Again

**EEEEee! The support you guys have is incredible, I swear. I will be trying to update this one at least once a week, maybe twice if I get the time and motivation.**

Inspired by a prompt I stumbled upon by _lateforerebor_ on tumblr.

 **Summary: Bilba "Bell" Baggins decides that she's waited quite long enough to take her mother's advice and old stories and go on an adventure of her own. What she didn't expect was to end up in Ered Luin and be adopted by dwarves! AU, Pre-Quest, Undecided Pairings.**

-;-

As Dori had suspected, Ori had taken to the halfling- or Hobbit, as he had been corrected- like a duck to water the moment he had walked through the door of their modest single floor home. Somehow, with all of his sixth sense, he had figured out that they had company, and had all but dropped his scribe tools in his eagerness to meet their new tenant.

He was now all but interrogating the Hobbit lass on anything and everything related to the Shire at their small oaken table in the next room while Dori made a light broth and tea for dinner.

"No, no, we call it a smial, Mister Ori." Came a snort from their guest. "Many a Hobbit will take great offense at their homes being called _holes_. Gracious, I could only imagine how Lobelia Sackville-Baggins would react!"

There was a soft cough and then a stuttered apology, to which soft laughter rang through the home.

"I don't mind at all, Mister Ori. My mother frequently called it such simply to get along better with the other folk that passed through the Shire. Come to think of it, I think she may have entertained a few dwarrow back in her day…"

"You know the proper term?" Ori blinked, looking at the Hobbit more alertly.

"Of course. My mother may not have been the most sensible of the Shire, but she got on well enough with the other folk who came through. I believe she accidentally insulted a dwarf once, was challenged to a fight and then won."

Ori's jaw dropped at the words. Fights of honor were rare things these days, but those that did occur were few and far between.

"Are you alright, Mister Ori?" Bilba asked, concern taking over her features. "I didn't say anything to insult you, did I?"

"Ori, close your mouth and quit pestering the poor lass with your questions. There will be plenty of time for that later." Dori scolded as he came into the room, carefully balancing a tray of food and a tea pot. "And no, you did not insult him, Miss Bilba. Quite the opposite, actually. That your mother fought and won an honor challenge is quite a distinction."

"Oh." Bilba replied, falling silent for a moment as Dori set down the bowls of broth and filled their cups with tea. "Thank you for the meal, Mister Dori."

"Dori, please, Miss Bilba." Dori corrected.

"And please call me Ori." Ori chimed. "If you'll be staying a while we may as well call one another by our names without all these titles."

"Very well then. Ori. Dori." Bilba tested, earning approving nods and smiles. "I thank you for your hospitality. May I ask, however, what sort of shifts I will be expected to work at your establishment?"

"The Grey Goose." Ori nodded, a smirk crossing his features before Dori cuffed him upside the head.

"You and Nori had better hope that I don't decide to beat you silly for _that_ stunt."

Bilba decided to stay out of this topic, instead taking a sip of her tea and gasping in appreciation.

"Is this ginger? And peach? And oh, black tea. Dori, this is absolutely lovely."

Dori stared at her for a long moment, a grin spreading as he preened.

"Why thank you, lass. I happen to blend all of my own teas. Impressive that you know the distinctions in the flavor."

"If there's one thing a Hobbit knows, it's food." Bilba chuckled, setting the mug down gently. "I would be happy to learn all I can of your foods while I stay in the Blue Mountains."

"It would be my pleasure to introduce you to our cuisine, Bilba." Dori returned. "But as to your work, I would like to officially introduce you to the kitchen staff tomorrow, if possible. Everything else can be discussed then."

"I would love to." The Hobbit replied before talk returned to the Shire.

-;-

Bilba woke slowly, with a long groan as she discovered that her body had decided to stiffen sometime during the night. Yet another reminder that she was beginning to get on in years, she thought sourly as she carefully rolled, stretching as she did so. A satisfying series of pops and cracks alerted her that everything was realigning and returning to its rightful place as she finally managed to pry open her eyes.

For a brief moment, panic flooded her system as she realized that she didn't recognize her surroundings.

She was covered in a warm burgundy patchwork quilt, and she was most definitely not out in the wilds as she had been as of late.

Ah, that was right- she had finally reached the Blue Mountains the evening before, and had somehow managed to find work and a place to stay with a pair of brothers.

Oh, if her mother could see her now.

She recalled now that Dori had made sure she'd had a bath, and at seeing her reflection in the mirror had smiled at the thought of her mother. As a faunt, she had always managed to burn during the warm seasons, and had always been the recipient of many balms and ointments to keep the worst of the itching sensation at bay.

"Bilba, are you up? I'm going to head over to the shop and start opening. Ori will bring you over before heading to his lessons." A soft knock at the door had the Hobbit hoisting herself upright, blinking the sleep out of her eyes as she took in the rest of the room.

It had been dark when she had come in last night, and now that it was brightening, she could see that whoever lived in this room before her had left very little behind. A map on the far wall, pinpointed in several areas by red ink, a small table with gouges and holes that looked as though they may have been caused by some sharp object, and a wooden chest in the corner with a lock on it.

"I'll be down in a few moments." She replied.

"Ah, good morning." Dori's voice came through the door again. "I'll let Ori know, and I will see you shortly."

With that, footsteps wandered down the hall, and soft voices spoke to one another before the front door opened and closed.

Bilba sighed, glancing around before finding her bag next to the bed. With practiced motions, she opened it and pulled out another thick skirt, tunic and a small corset- not really a corset at all, but more styled as a belt. Then she dug for her comb, which had no doubt fallen to the bottom of the supplies, until victoriously brandishing it and getting to work on her thick and unruly curls. It served her right for going to bed with wet hair, she supposed.

That accomplished, she pulled back two strands of hair on either side of her face and tied them there, so as to keep her curls from impeding her vision, and quickly checked herself over before wandering down the hall on silent feet.

"Good morning, Ori." She greeted as she entered the small dining and kitchen area.

"Good morning, Bilba." The dwarf replied cheerfully, hardly glancing up from a rather large bound journal, of which he was scribbling something down almost madly. "Dori left some porridge for you, and I think there's tea left in the pot."

"Thank you." She replied, going and collecting the food before returning to the table.

"What are you writing?" she asked curiously, realizing that the runes he was creating were entirely unfamiliar to her. "I don't think I've ever seen a language like that before."

"That's because it's the secret language of the dwarves." Ori replied, finishing the last line of runes he was working on before finally looking at her. "It's completely against our laws to teach it to outsiders unless there has been an exemption made, so it's no wonder that you would not know it."

"I see." Bilba said, a little disappointed.

"Don't worry. Just because you don't know our language doesn't mean we can't teach you other things about us." He comforted. "There are so many things to our culture that so few know because they just don't care or don't want to see us as more than beggars and miners."

"Hm. If you wouldn't mind, then I would very much like to learn, Ori." She said, swallowing the mouthful of her porridge. "But I suppose that will have to wait until after Dori has finished with me."

"Good luck." Ori snorted with a shake of his head. "I love my older brother, but if there is one thing I know, it is that you will likely have to put up with a lot more than you're used to if you will make it working for him. He tends to go through cooks like children through toys."

-;-

When Bilba arrived, she walked in to see almost complete chaos.

Amid several broken chairs stood Dori, muttering darkly under his breath and surveying the damage with a scowl.

"What happened?" Ori inquired, looking around the tavern alertly.

"Those blasted cooks- other than Rorin- completely ruined the place and quit this morning." The silver haired dwarf growled. "They run an absolute disaster and I told them as much when I came in. They, in turn, did _this_ before storming out."

"Oh my." Bilba said mildly as Ori nudged her with a knowing look.

"If you didn't have to go study with Balin, I would have you in the kitchen as well, Ori." Dori huffed. "As is it seems that I will have to step in for the day, and find another two cooks to work on short notice."

The silver haired dwarf continued his pacing and muttering for several more seconds before deflating and shaking his head.

"I suppose there's nothing for it but to teach you how to cook a few dwarven dishes, Bilba. Come, we have a while yet- we don't open the doors until midday. Ori, send my regards to Balin, would you?"

"Of course I will!" Ori straightened indignantly. "Good luck, Bilba."

"Honestly, that boy." Dori shook his head before he marched back towards the kitchen. "Rorin won't be arriving until later, so I suppose it's the two of us for now, lass. Now, the knives are always kept over here, the pots and pans here…"

By the end of it all, Bilba felt as though she'd learned a new language, what with Dori's rather precise, if not complicated explanations of how the kitchen worked. As a Hobbit, it all made perfect sense, and she had said as much to Dori, who had paused to look at her thoughtfully before nodding as if something had been confirmed in his mind.

Currently, she was polishing the silverware and plates until they positively gleamed, while Dori was putting together all of the things that he would need to cook the dishes. The teas, he had explained, would be chosen once everything had been prepped and the barkeep had selected the brews for the evening.

"And Bilba, if any lot does you a disservice, you handle it as you must." The silver haired dwarf had finished, making her feel rather mothered. "As long as you make sure that the folk who dine and drink here know that you are able to take care of yourself, they will leave you alone. However, _you_ must be the one to put them in their place."

The words hardly inspired her, but despite that fact she felt as though Dori were looking out for her as though she were one of his children- perhaps that had been the reason for the comment last night about the Grey Goose?

Needless to say, by the time Rorin appeared the first customers had begun to filter in to the shop, numbering few but merry as they placed their orders and were served by a pleasant Hobbit lass they had never seen before. Bilba was splitting her time between prepping with Dori to serving the meals and teas that were directed of her, and Rorin quickly stepped in with practiced precision to take over some of the prep work.

"Decided te keep her, did you?" he chuckled to Dori as he flew through the vegetables he was slicing. "A lovely lass, no doubt. Be good te keep th' lads on their toes whilst they're here."

"You just keep an eye on her. Few of those who come through here know of the Shire and the Hobbits, and I worry that someone may try something as she gets settled." Dori replied, rolling out dough for bread.

"Aye, I will." Rorin promised, falling silent as Bilba returned with an empty tray and a focused expression on her features.

By the time that the miners and workers had gotten out that evening, word had spread of the lass working at the Grey Goose. Considering that it was one of the only taverns in Ered Luin, the news was something of a curiosity. Already, dwarrow were speaking of it with amusement- the small lass who wore no shoes upon her feet and went about her work for Dori, son of Ri with a smile upon her face- it was all but a miracle, they said!

Business boomed that evening, with a small line trailing into the street as they waited to see the lass who somehow managed to put up with the fussy silver haired dwarf renowned for his blended teas and brutal demeanor to his kitchen staff.

At the end of it all, it was an exhausted Hobbit and dwarf that closed the shop for the night, shooing out the last of those who had been insistent on continuing their drinks long into the night before stumbling back to their home and falling into bed, a faintly amused Ori tucking his eldest brother into bed and blowing out the lamps in both of the rooms.


	3. Missing Home

**And it is I, once again! You know, I'm not entirely certain how long this beast is going to be.**

Inspired by a prompt I stumbled upon by _lateforerebor_ on tumblr.

 **Summary: Bilba "Bell" Baggins decides that she's waited quite long enough to take her mother's advice and old stories and go on an adventure of her own. What she didn't expect was to end up in Ered Luin and be adopted by dwarves! AU, Pre-Quest, Undecided Pairings.**

-;-

"-and then you leave it to simmer for several hours."

"Alright…" Bilba blinked, hesitantly placing the lid over the top of the pot and backing away.

"I know our cooking methods may differ from yours, but you'll see the results in the end." Dori chuckled as he guided the Hobbit around the small kitchen. "But you're doing remarkably well, considering you've never heard of dwarven recipes."

"It's a compliment." Ori chimed in from his chair in the corner- he'd dragged it in earlier to watch the events while working on his studies from his mentor. "Very rare when it comes to Dori, I know."

"You hush, you cheeky little troll!" Dori snapped, throwing a piece of discarded cabbage at the youngest of his brothers. "If Nori deigns to grace us with his presence before the winter, I'll teach him a lesson for influencing you so terribly!"

Bilba covered her smirk with a quiet cough and turned back to the oven built above the fire to check the loaves of sweet bread that were still baking. These arguments had begun barely a handful of days into her stay with them, and she could honestly say that it was never a dull moment around the home.

"What is your other brother like?" she couldn't help but ask, wiping her hands on her cloth and turning back to the pair. "I don't think I've heard his name mentioned more than a handful of times since I've been here."

"He's our middle brother." Ori provided immediately as Dori huffed and busied himself with mixing his teas. "Dori thinks he's a terrible influence on me-"

"Because he is." Dori muttered darkly.

Ori rolled his eyes behind Dori's back- a risky maneuver, Bilba had discovered early on. Dori had a mean motherly streak that seemed to be amplified by Ori's mere presence. It was sweet, in a way, to watch. To see the way that they loved one another (even if it wasn't the way that she was used to), and to be surrounded by a home and be around others. It was… nostalgic.

"Bilba, is that bread done yet? It should be a dark gold on the top." The silver haired dwarf inquired, placing down his measuring glass and coming over to investigate.

Bilba chuckled and moved out of the way, knowing that it would likely end badly for her if she interfered. As a Hobbit, she understood the feeling perfectly- no one simply came into their kitchen and said that they would be in charge without consequences.

The number of cooks that Dori was going through was beginning to seem a little ridiculous, though…

-;-

Before any of them had realized it, Bilba had been in the Blue Mountains for almost a full season. The leaves of the trees at the base of the mountains were turning rustic oranges and ambers, and it caught the Hobbit off guard one cool sunlight afternoon as she and Ori were running errands for Dori.

Bilba caught herself pausing at the outskirts of the settlement, her gaze on the eastern horizon. A sudden feeling of nostalgia and homesickness washed over her, and she swallowed heavily. The harvest would be in full swing by now, most of the crops being taken in in typical Hobbit efficiency and being ground into ingredients.

"Bilba?"

"Oh! Sorry, Ori, were you saying something?" she said sheepishly, feeling her cheeks heat. Honestly, her manners were deteriorating faster than she realized since she'd left the Shire.

"Are you okay?" the scribe asked, concern written in his features.

"I think so." Bilba nodded, though her eyes were once again drawn to the horizon. "This is the first time I won't be home for the harvest, is all."

"You're homesick?"

"A little." She admitted, taking a step forward before seating herself on the earthen steps leading down the path towards the ground. "This is the farthest I've ever been from home. When I was a faunt, my mother would always take me to the edge of Farmer Maggot's farm and steal a bag of apples from his trees. My father would always lose his mind fretting over what mischief my mother was getting us into, but when we returned up the lane, he would be at the door with a smile and a hug for the both of us… we would sit on top of Bag End and we would all eat the apples until we felt sick."

Ori tentatively seated himself next to her as she spoke, and Bilba found herself wiping at her eyes as they began to water.

"It's been years." She said with a quiet sniff. "I shouldn't still be this sad."

"It's okay to miss them, you know." Ori said quietly. "I don't really remember our mum- she passed away when I was a dwarfling. Dori's really the only one who remembers her very well, and Nori doesn't talk about her if he can help it. I think he really misses her still. But it's okay, because we know she'll be waiting for us one day in the halls of our Maker."

"It's just not fair." She said.

"Some things aren't." Ori replied simply.

Bilba sighed, closing her eyes a moment and leaning her chin on her knees before a gentle touch to her shoulder grounded her again.

"You might not be home, but we still have apples." The dwarf offered, holding out a dark red apple to the Hobbit, who huffed out a watery laugh before accepting the gift.

"Thank you, Ori." She smiled at her friend, who beamed back at her, his short beard bristling at the movement.

"You're welcome." He replied before standing and offering her a hand up. "Let's get going. Dori'll come looking for us soon, and I don't want to be spoon-fed whatever green vegetable he comes up with this time."

Bilba glanced over her shoulder again before smiling and following Ori. She would return to the Shire eventually. Once the winter was through, she would return home and she would continue her vacations to the Blue Mountains whenever she could.

But why did the thought of leaving give her a strange ache in her chest?

-;-

"Dori, that's the third chef this week!" Bilba exclaimed as she stomped into the kitchen, propping her hands on her hips as she faced down the fuming silver haired dwarf. "I understand that you're not happy with the way they perform in the kitchen, but honestly, if you're not careful even Rorin might leave at this rate!"

"Wouldn' think of it, sir." Rorin winked as he wandered by with a stack of dirty plates.

"You're not helping, Rorin!" Bilba barked after him before returning her ire to the silver haired dwarf before her. "At least try to line up more potential cooks before you throw the ones you have out the door!"

Dori, surprisingly, took the brunt of the verbal assault rather well, almost cowing away from the wrath of the copper haired Hobbit lass.

It was beginning to be a familiar situation to those who worked in the Grey Goose or who regularly attended for their midday meals. The small Hobbit lass going after the temperamental tea master himself with naught but her fiery spirit and even more fiery temper. Not that anyone had really seen it publicly, of course. Only those brave enough to check in the kitchen- a small number indeed- and the staff were usually present to see Bilba of the Shire pursuing the owner of the establishment.

"Fine. I'll consider it." Dori groused, pretending to look far more put out than he felt. He, secretly, enjoyed seeing their Hobbit lass coming out of her shell the more she settled into her life in the Blue Mountains. He only wished that she wouldn't leave come the next spring- the time she had been considering heading back to the Shire. She was by far the best cook in the kitchen, even Rorin agreeing that she had a way about her when it came to food. Something along those lines had been lectured by said Hobbit lass at one point, but no one could remember the exact words of the passionate rambling.

"Thank you. Now, if you'll excuse us, Rorin and I have a kitchen to run, and _you_ have new cooks to find. Even Ori would be a help to us at this point!"

Oh. Now that was an idea indeed, Dori thought as he took his leave, musing over the thought carefully.

It wasn't until that evening that he even mentioned it to his youngest brother. Well, less of mention, more of ordered. He had already approached Balin about rearranging the lad's lessons around the Grey Goose's hours, and there didn't seem to be many issues around that, considering that most mornings the elder dwarrow was left with free time. It would also free up the afternoons to do errands and other such things, keep his brother Dwalin out of trouble and the like.

Fortunately, Ori was quite pleased with this turn events. Not as much of the working at the Goose instead of pursuing his scribing studies, but the fact that he got to spend more time with their resident Hobbit and learn more and more about the Shire.

Already, Dori had noticed that Bilba had rather taken a shine to Ori, often helping with his Westron when he had to practice writing and even beginning to teach him Sindarin- something that had sparked an almost violent argument about elves before Bilba had pointed out that as a scribe, any and all languages would be useful to him.

Bilba had finally agreed to take small pay from Dori as thanks for bringing more business to the Grey Goose. And in spite of it almost being winter already, the Hobbit only seemed to become more and more cheerful the cooler it was in the morning when she roused herself. And every morning, before even Dori managed to haul himself from his bed, she would be only just arriving back from who knows where, humming a tune to herself as she retreated to her room- even Dori was beginning to forget that it had once been Nori's, what with all of the small nick-knacks that were beginning to appear in the small space.

However, it was one chilly morning that Ori and Dori woke to find gifts waiting for them at the ends of their beds.

For Dori, the Hobbit had knit a pair of lovely gloves that ended mid-finger. Bilba knew that Dori hated the mornings, often complaining about how he could never feel his hands for the first couple of hours he was up but unable to wear full gloves as he wandered about the kitchen making tea.

For Ori, Bilba had knit a rather unusual article of clothing- a shawl that, when arranged just so, appeared as a thick scarf. The catch was that she had sewn the ends together so that a makeshift hood had been made available. This also meant that Ori would not have to worry about the ends of the scarf/shawl hybrid coming loose and having to adjust it as much as he did with his current scarf.

And for herself, Bilba had knit a lovely shawl so that she could walk to the tavern without fear of catching a chill in the air. In fact, she was wearing it as the pair of curious dwarves entered the kitchen to find the Hobbit already busily rolling out dough, a small stack of unidentifiable ingredients lying in piles next to her elbows.

"Good morning, Dori, Ori." She greeted, turning to beam at the pair sunnily before returning to her dough, humming a soft melody that neither of the males could identify.

"Good morning, Bilba." Ori greeted. "Thank you for the present."

"You're most welcome, Ori." The Hobbit returned. "I know you were wanting another scarf, so I decided to knit you one. Sort of. It's more a shawl, but hopefully it will serve you well."

"I think it will."

"And I thank you for these gloves. Such lovely stitching." Dori added. "How did you get the idea to leave the finger tips alone?"

"Well, you seem to despise having to work with gloves when you're mixing your teas, so I thought I would try something new. Do they fit alright? I didn't have the time to take your measurements."

"They fit near perfectly. Thank you for the thoughtful gifts."

"Ah well, we're not done quite yet. I'm making a late apple crumble with the last of the apples before they go bad." She sing-songed.

"Crumble?" Ori mouthed to Dori, who shrugged in return. It had to be some kind of Hobbit dish, though as to what kind would involve apples he didn't quite know.

That tune changed once a bowl full of steaming warm 'crumble' was placed before the pair, a cool mug of milk paired alongside it.

"By the gods!" Dori blinked after the first bite.

"It's amazing." Ori mumbled around a bite of his own, his face an image of pure and utter bliss. "I never thought that healthy things could taste so _good_."

Bilba- smug, lovely Bilba, crossed her arms and nodded.

"Well, this one isn't quite as healthy, but yes." She grinned. "I don't know what's gotten into me lately. I've just been so happy!"

"As long as it keeps up, you can do as you please, my dear." Dori informed her, continuing his trek through the delicious dish until nothing remained in the bowl. "Though I may have to ask for that recipe- the tavern would love this come spring!"

"I would be happy to, Dori."


	4. All the Places He Has Been

**And now, the moment we've all been waiting for! Or is it? Either way I'm excited!**

Inspired by a prompt I stumbled upon by _lateforerebor_ on tumblr.

 **Summary: Bilba "Bell" Baggins decides that she's waited quite long enough to take her mother's advice and old stories and go on an adventure of her own. What she didn't expect was to end up in Ered Luin and be adopted by dwarves! AU, Pre-Quest, Undecided Pairings.**

-;-

The first-and likely last time- that Bilba would speak a word of Hobbitish in the presence of a dwarf was at the arrival of the middle son of Ri one gloomy night during midwinter. Likewise, the first- but certainly not the last time- that the Hobbit wielded a weapon was during the same night.

Bilba's eyes snapped open at the tiny sound of something clinking against glass, and she bolted upright in her bed, eyes immediately going to the window that was positioned alongside the foot of the bed. A dark shadow was blocking light from coming in, and she quickly and silently reached for the closest object to her- the rather solid broom that she kept next to her bed at all times.

That wouldn't be enough for her, however- she needed something else. Something that she could use as a distraction.

Her book would do nicely, she thought as the window clicked open and the dark figure entered.

" _Now Bilba,"_ she remembered her mother saying to her once, " _If anyone ever tries to harm you, immediately go for an offensive move- they won't expect that. Follow up with another full attack with something you feel comfortable using. If you have a candlestick then use it. A book, a bauble, a broom- any of them can be used as weapons if you need them to. Of course, that is only if you can't get to your knife or conkers. And don't forget to yell for help."_

The sound of the heavy tome hitting the intruder in the side of the head was the only sound in the room for a split second before Bilba shrieked a war cry in Hobbitish that would have had her mother applauding and lunged, her broom in hand. She and her cousins had always played with sticks as faunts, and so her mother had gotten her a walking staff made of thick wood that she taught her daughter how to use when she was older. And while her walking staff was out of reach, the broom certainly wasn't, and she knew how to use it.

" _DORI!"_ she shrieked as the intruder stumbled back with a surprised grunt, unable to fend off her skilled blows as she advanced. _"DORI, HELP!"_

There was a noise like thunder down the hall, and then the door burst open, quite literally as the hinges bent and gave way and Dori barrelled into the room like a dwarf possessed. With a noise not unlike a strangled squawk, the intruder managed to escape out the window, just as Bilba landed another heavy blow to the back of the head. Dori, enraged as he was, tore after the unknown out the window as Ori flew into the room as well, immediately rushing to the Hobbit's side as a slew of aggressive Khuzdul came through the window. After several long moments of the growled banter, Ori's concerned expression slowly turned to amusement, and at Bilba's flustered, anxious expression explained in a tone that was obviously adjusted to hide his laughter,

"I see you've met Nori."

-;-

It was needless to say that the next morning was awkward on more than one account. No one had slept much after the incident- Dori and Nori had been locked away in one of the bedrooms as Bilba and Ori had spent most of the night together in Ori's room, knitting and working on Sindarin until they had both nodded off at one point.

Which brought them to where they were now.

Nori had been delegated to the small couch in the living space, and as the morning dawned- indeed, the sky was only just beginning to brighten when the three dwarves and one particularly exhausted Hobbit convened upon the kitchen.

Bilba, wary and still more than a little anxious, eyed up the newcomer with suspicious eyes. For one thing, this newcomer had a strangely large amount of red- or was it chestnut?- hair pulled up and styled into that of a star, and his beard was rather handsome in its groomed state as well.

"For such a wee thing, you have a fine arm." Nori commented with a cheerful grin as Dori stiffly went about his morning ritual of making tea and breakfast for the lot of them.

Indeed, there was a rather ugly bruise forming to the right of his eye, which had swollen slightly during the night and did not at all help solidify her first impression into a positive one.

"Evidently not good enough." She muttered back, crossing her arms tightly over her chest. "As you're still conscious. And talking."

Ori nudged her foot with his own, and she knew that the youngest of the trio was trying to hold back his laughter at the situation that they all found themselves in.

"Do you happen to make a habit of breaking into homes, or is it simply a hobby for you to do in your spare time." Bilba inquired lightly, though Dori and Ori both knew that the temper of their Hobbit was about to make a grand entrance if Nori happened to say the wrong thing.

It went without saying that Dori was secretly hoping for the latter.

"Does it count as breaking in if it's my home? Specifically, my room?" Nori inquired.

"Considering your claim of not breaking in, there was a suspicious amount of lock picking involved." Bilba shot back.

The tense atmosphere was broken by Dori's arrival with food- a simple porridge with raisins and an earthy black tea, of which Bilba could detect walnuts in the scent. However reluctantly, he placed a bowl and a mug down in front of Nori as well, though slightly heavier than with she and Ori.

"We haven't been introduced. I am Nori, at your service."

"Bilba Baggins, and yes, you most certainly are."

"A pleasure. Now, what on earth would bring a lass like _you_ to my room?"

Dori's expression was dark as he opened his mouth to reply, but Bilba was quicker to the draw.

"I happen to be exchanging work for board, if you must know. Though I hardly think it relevant considering the circumstances that brought you to the room _I_ happen to occupy at the moment."

Dori's dark expression turned to one of smug pride. He had certainly groomed the Hobbit lass into a right spitfire during the time she had been spending with them. Not that she needed much help- she had a temper to start with.

"Relevant like how the room is mine?"

"It would be, if you deigned to grace us with your presence more than thrice a year." Dori finally said, narrowing his eyes at the redheaded dwarf. "However, as it was simply gathering dust and Bilba was looking for somewhere to stay, I made the decision to allow her to stay. And while I am thinking of it, I have told you countless times to stop trying to surprise us with your appearances- perhaps this time you might have learned something!"

Nori's expression soured, and he barked off something in Khuzdul before falling silent.

"Don't use that tone with me." Dori growled back. "And certainly not in front of Bilba. She'll not be going anywhere- not even due to your sudden reappearance."

The dwarf glanced at the Hobbit, who glared back at him fiercely. She was relieved at the statement that she would be allowed to stay, but her current ire was still first and foremost in her mind.

"I suppose I have no one to blame but myself." Nori finally huffed, his stiff stance relaxing and an easy smile gracing his features again. "I'll stay on the couch while I'm here."

"Damn right you will." Dori snorted, a faint smirk crossing his own features as the tension all but vanished from the room. "But it is good to see you, little goblin."

Nori made a face.

"One day, you will stop calling me that." He groused.

"Not any time soon." The silver haired dwarf replied smartly, returning to nurse his mug of tea primly.

-;-

Bilba and Nori's relationship, if it could be called that, didn't go particularly well following the initial confrontation. The Hobbit, while perfectly civil to Dori and Ori, was wary at best to the middle Ri and made her opinion known to the thief on several occasions during the first couple of weeks.

Nori, on the other hand, had started off wary but quickly grew curious about the Hobbit lass. He had heard of the Shirelings, but he had not actually passed through their territories before, preferring to go south-east on his wanderings. Plus, learning that both the Hobbit and Ori were working at the Grey Goose due to Dori's… habit… of kicking out his cooks, he decided that he was going to help his older brother find a cook that he couldn't possibly find fault in.

Call him what you like, Nori was nothing if not loyal to his kin, and his brothers above all. Tolerating the Hobbit was just part of his nature until he could figure out what aim she had.

 _If she had one_ , his mind said thoughtfully.

Paranoid he may be, but Nori had not had the luxuries of growing up in stability like Dori and Ori. Dori had been of age when the dragon attacked Erebor, and Nori had only been dwarfling. Ori had not even been a thought in his ma's eye until the Blue Mountains.

He remembered, faintly, the attack of blistering fire and smoke clouding the halls of Erebor. His mother's auburn hair obscuring his vision as she clutched him close to her chest, calling for Dori as they stumbled through the dark, the screams of the grieving and dying haunting him still. His mother, stumbling and crying out for Dori as a roar, louder than the largest crack of thunder or tolling bell, resounded throughout the mountain. A shriek and then pain, worse than he could ever recall, scorching heat that filled the air.

He would later recall cold ointments being pressed against the back of his neck and along his shoulders, down towards his hip. His mother, her beautiful smile gone as she clutched him closer than she ever had before, Dori's worried frown hovering over him in what few moments he could remember of the journey west, before coming to rest at Ered Luin.

He was the in between of his brothers. Dori could still remember the days of peace in Erebor, though his memories had since faded over the years of absence.

Ori, however, knew nothing of their homeland. He knew nothing of the pain and fear that had plagued their family and kin, having been born here in the Blue Mountains. No, it was a life of simplicity and normalcy for Ori.

Nori had been displaced by the shift between Erebor and the Blue Mountains. Circumstances had shaped him to become a thief in order to provide for his family. His mother had known, he thought. How could she not, after seeing all that he had been through. Because of that, he suspected that she allowed it as a way to vent his unsolved grief and anger.

Dori had suspected, perhaps, though he had never been told. When they all grew older, and Ori's tutoring fees came up, Nori had been the one to supply the coin to pay. Dori knew nothing more than that it had been Nori, Balin's sad, knowing smile following the thief out the door after he had paid for everything.

Shortly after that had come the open suspicion, the accusations, and finally the outright fighting. They tried to keep Ori out of it- the single thing that the pair could always agree on was that Ori always came first, despite whatever problems arose.

No, the real problem had been the single night that Ori had come home from his studies to find both of his brothers at one another's throats, snarling the most foul of insults at each other before Dori finally drove him out with a howl of rage and a thrown teapot at his skull. He had fumed about it for the first several days, but then a deep ache had settled in his bones as grief settled in.

He had only returned from his wanderings a handful of times since that day, and Dori seemed perfectly content to leave the matter alone, and so he had to leave it as well, even though he wanted nothing more than to simply talk and make it better somehow. All he wanted was his brother back- not this stranger with false smiles and forced cheer whenever he returned.

So yes, he would keep an eye on this Bilba Baggins until he had figured out how she had come to take his place in their home.

-;-

"You shouldn't be out alone, you know."

Bilba snorted, sitting on the back step of the Goose and sipping at her mug of tea. It had been busier, busier than she was used to, given the light snow that had powdered the streets the night before. There were twice as many dwarves and men in the tavern than usual, and it was only thanks to Bombur and Rorin's help that she hadn't gotten swamped under all of the food she was serving. Her shawl was wrapped around her shoulders comfortably, and Nori couldn't help but notice that it had similar stitching to that of Dori's new gloves and Ori's new scarf.

"So I recall many folk telling me." She replied dryly as the star-haired dwarf pulled out his pipe and lit it, leaning against the wall next to her and looking up at the sky.

There were clouds in the distance, promising snow for the following day, but there was nothing blocking the view of the glimmering stars and the azure depths of the sky. The moon was just climbing above the nearest peak to them, the light illuminating the street in an eerily clear light. "And yet I packed my bag and walked out of the Shire with hardly a thought. Wandered to the Grey Fells and along the coast before making it here. And all on my own, I may add."

"And why did you come, then?" Nori asked, half in suspicion, half curiously.

"My mother always used to tell me stories of her adventures. It wasn't until after she passed that I would never get the chance to tell my own if I never left the Shire." Bilba said carefully, glancing up at him with a guarded expression. "Thank you, though."

"For what."

"Dori may not have realized that you were behind it, but I know it was you who brought Bombur to the Goose." The Hobbit replied primly, though there was a faint smile on her lips. "You're not as bad as you like them to think, you know."

"Perhaps you don't know me as well as ya think." He replied, puffing out a smoke ring and trying to convince himself that her words were closer to the mark than he would like to admit.

"Perhaps not." Bilba agreed. "But that may have had something to do with the situation in which we first met. Your bruise is almost gone now, by the way."

"Ya do have a wicked arm, lass." He smirked, looking down at her.

"I know." She replied smugly.

It had to have been the way she said it that coaxed a chuckle out of the thief, and Bilba finished her tea in comfortable silence before pulling out her own pipe and setting to lighting it. At that, Nori couldn't help but quirk a brow at her.

"Hobbits are no strangers to our pipeweed, Master Nori." She hummed, reclining her head and puffing a perfect smoke ring into the air. "We supply most of the region west of the Misty Mountains, after all."

Nori couldn't help but blink in surprise at the startlingly bright smile the Hobbit leveled at him before she extinguished her pipe with skilled practice and wandered back into the tavern, leaving him wondering if that had been the tiny creature's way of starting fresh.


	5. Learning to Swim

**Send help I gave Nori a sad backstory and I don't know how it happened. Also, my updates seem to be getting more frequent. Hope you all enjoy!**

Inspired by a prompt I stumbled upon by _lateforerebor_ on tumblr.

 **Summary: Bilba "Bell" Baggins decides that she's waited quite long enough to take her mother's advice and old stories and go on an adventure of her own. What she didn't expect was to end up in Ered Luin and be adopted by dwarves! AU, Pre-Quest, Undecided Pairings.**

-;-

Bombur was a lively addition to the Grey Goose. The robust dwarf was sweet and often got lost in his work in the kitchen- surprisingly enough, even Dori couldn't fault his occasional, less than graceful moment as he tripped over this or dropped that. The food that he could make astounded everyone, and when he and the Hobbit teamed up with their sweets Dori found himself changing the menu of the Goose to include desserts and tea selections for said desserts specifically.

The snow outdoors did little to dampen the spirits of those in their small household. In fact, Bilba tended to drag Ori outdoors to play- yes, play- in the foot and a half of the white powder that settled over Ered Luin.

Many of those who lived near the brothers had come to know the Hobbit lass rather well since she had arrived during the summer, and few could find fault with the bright smiles and baked goods that she occasionally made and delivered to their doors while still warm.

It was those things that endeared her to the community, even one as widespread as the dwarves of Ered Luin, and the Grey Goose had never seen more business before since its opening.

However, with the business boom came another problem- the less savoury crowds that came into the Grey Goose.

It was a particularly cold night, with the snow turning to sleet as it came down outside. The tavern was full of laughter, warmth, and more food than they had ever cooked in one night before. Bilba was balancing a rather large order on several trays and was navigating the familiar throng of tables and guests when out of nowhere, a large hand slapped her rear and caused the Hobbit lass to squeak in startlement and whirl, her cheeks a flaming red. She took in the smirks, the ale spread out before the Men, before narrowing her eyes and continuing on.

Nori, Bofur, and Gloin were all present, tucked away in a corner with their own drinks. Bofur and Gloin had just finished a long shift mining in one of the northern peaks, and had decided to spend their evening with drinks and good company. Nori, however unwillingly, kept an eye out for their Hobbit lass- and when had she become _theirs_ , anyway?- as he nursed his ale and listened to Bofur's animated tale of how a couple of the lads had gotten lost on the way back to the surface.

"Lass, are ye alright?" Rorin asked as a flustered Bilba returned to the kitchen, taking a moment to lean on the counter and take a couple of deep breaths in order to keep herself together. The utter nerve of those Men, thinking they could get away with such indecent behavior!

"Fine." She replied calmly, raising her chin and straightening her skirts. "I'm going to refill the ale at Nori's table."

"Alright, then." The dwarf frowned, watching as the Hobbit aggressively gathered the pitcher of ale and all but stomped off.

Once again, as there were no other available routes, Bilba had to pass by the table of Men. And once again, a large hand felt her up as she passed. Her grip tightened so drastically on the pitcher that by the time she arrived at the corner table and poured the trio of dwarves their ale that the metal handle had actually begun to warp.

"Uh…" Bofur started, only to be cut off by a quick sign in Iglishmek by Nori. The thief could tell that the Hobbit was getting worked up, and while he could see what was happening, she needed to deal with it on her own. Not that his own temper wasn't raised at the sight of the drunk Men laughing about touching her as if it were a game.

"Yes, Bofur?" she asked innocently enough, raising a brow as she refilled his mug.

"Nothing." He muttered, clearing his throat and turning his attention back to his food. "Excellent dish tonight. 'Nother Shire special?"

"It is." She replied, a hint of a proud smile on her features. She and Bofur had met shortly after Bombur had started at the Goose, and they had hit it off immediately. The Hobbit had a natural cheer and easiness, and Bofur was perpetually wearing a smile on his face and had a wink and a laugh for anyone who asked. Some might say that they were like-minded spirits. "And I'd be happy to send Bombur home with the recipe."

"Much appreciated, Miss Bell." The hatted dwarf winked as she shook her head and began wading through the crowd again.

It was the third time that she had had enough.

Half expecting the hand, the Hobbit snarled something in a tongue that none present had heard before, pulled her fist back, and completely flattened the Man with a heavy hit to the stomach. She followed up with a solid kick to his ribs as he collapsed to the floor, her eyes wild as she whirled on his companions.

"That is _quite_ enough!" she snarled, brandishing the empty pitcher at them as she propped her hands on her hips. "Appalling behavior, acting as though any maid passing you by is a conquest to be had! I will say this once, and only once- leave, before I teach you brutes some manners when concerning a lady!"

The Man at her feet groaned, and she stomped her foot and hissed at his companions in warning. "Get out, and don't come back!"

It had to have been the ale that they had consumed, but the pair left sitting had obviously not been expecting the tiny lass to suddenly turn on them like a rabid bear. Grabbing their companion, they dragged the dazed man out of the tavern.

Complete silence filled the room, and Bilba waited only a moment before letting out a pained wheeze and clutching her hand to her chest and hobbling over to the bar, where Gard was standing with his mouth hanging open. In fact, everyone remaining in the Grey Goose had similar expressions, save Nori- who had personally been on the receiving end of that temper. He was sipping smugly at his ale as Bofur and Gloin stared with their jaws hanging open at the lass.

"That's a lass." Gard finally managed, automatically going to retrieve some of the ice from a barrel beneath the counter, placing some on a cloth before wrapping it and handing it to the grimacing Hobbit. "Didn' know ya had it in ya, lass."

"Yes, well." Bilba flushed, even as she took the cloth gratefully and pressing it against her already bruising hand, "I can only be pushed so far before I snap."

"Apparently." The barkeep barked out a laugh, finally breaking the silence in the tavern. However, there was a new respect and warmth for the Hobbit as she insisted on returning to serving, many of the dwarves present treated her as though she had gone to battle or some such nonsense, and she asked Bombur about it as they began closing up the kitchen.

"Well, you have, haven't you?" the large dwarf returned, raising a brow as he hauled the gigantic stew pot up and placed it on the shelf. "In our culture, a dam proves that she is a warrior in a different manner than then us. Once she's done so, any dwarf will come to her aid in battle afterward."

" _And Bilba, if any lot does you a disservice, you handle it as you must. As long as you make sure that the folk who dine and drink here know that you are able to take care of yourself, they will leave you alone. However, you must be the one to put them in their place."_ Dori's words came to her, from when she had first arrived at the Goose.

"So that's what Dori meant." She huffed. "He told me that if anyone did me a disservice, I would have to handle it on my own. It would have been easier if he had just told me."

Bombur shrugged. "Perhaps he had faith in you."

"It certainly _was_ impressive." Came a new voice, causing the pair to start as Bilba turned to find Nori standing at the doorway of the kitchen, a lazy smirk on his features. "I don't think Bofur will stop talkin' about it any time soon."

"Is that a good thing or not?" she asked suspiciously.

"Good, most likely." He replied. "Your reputation will only spread now."

"Perfect." She deadpanned. "That's exactly what I need."

The pair laughed at her, and Rorin reappeared from the back from where he had been reorganizing the pantry. It had taken a hefty beating that night, after all.

"How's the hand, lass?" he asked, taking note of the bruising and swollen knuckles.

"Possibly broken, but I'll live." Bilba said, flexing her fingers automatically and wincing. "Remind me not to do that again any time soon."

"Duly noted."

"Just wait until Dori hears about it." Nori grinned darkly. "He's likely to smother you when we arrive home."

Bilba paled at the thought, knowing exactly how motherly Dori could be when provoked. The Grey Goose hadn't been named the Grey Goose without reason, after all. That was a running joke that Bilba had finally been brought in on one night when she had been helping Ori study- one in which he and Nori had begun calling Dori a mother goose. Always hissing and spitting and completely willing to tear someone to pieces if they threatened his kin. Likewise, that ire could be channelled the other direction.

Likely hers, tonight.

She sighed, deflating as the dwarves laughed at her predicament.

-;-

 _She was sitting in the front window of Bag End, which was the first clue that she was dreaming. Outside the window, the light fluffy snowflakes of the first snow were drifting lazily to the ground. The scents of apple and baking bread wafted throughout the halls, and she couldn't help the small sigh of contentment that escaped her._

" _Bilba? Love, where are you?"_

" _Mama?" she turned. Her dreams weren't usually this specific, if at all._

" _Bilba? Bilba!"_

 _Suddenly she was standing in snow that came up to her knees, and her heart nearly stopped as she recognized the landscape she was standing in. Looking down at her clothing, she realized that she was right in her assumptions. This was the day she had been visiting her Took cousins with her mother._

" _Mama?" she called, whirling around, eyes roving the cold white horizon frantically. "Mama, where are you!"_

" _Bilba!"_

 _Suddenly her mother appeared over the crest of a hill, her travelling cloak flapping behind her as she brandished her Tookish blade, crimson spattering the snow as she leapt, blade coming down on something behind her-_

 _And then she was running, the bays of the wolves ringing in her ears as her mother, usually so warm and bright and full of laughter was dragging her through the trees, where the snow wasn't as deep and they could reach full stride._

" _Mama, what's happening?" she cried as she stumbled, her knee connecting with a sharp rock and sending cold fire through her leg._

" _The wolves have come over the river. We must get to Hobbiton and warn the others. Bilba, do you understand? You have to warn the others."_

" _Me? Mama, what about you?"_

 _She turned, but there was nothing there. And then a pair of glowing amber eyes flickered in the shadows, and she shrieked as it leapt-_

"Bilba!"

"No!" she screamed, eyes snapping open as she struggled with whatever was pinning her to the bed. "No! Mama!"

"Bilba, you're safe! Calm down, it's just us!"

She went limp, breathing staggered as she trembled. "Ori?"

"It's us, Bilba." The scribe's soft voice said, though he sounded more rattled than she thought he should be. "You're safe. Just calm down."

She couldn't help the tears, really. Dori, his weight moving off of her, quickly gathered her into his arms as he worriedly fussed over her, trying to figure out how he could help. Nori was in the back of the group, still looking as though he'd just woken despite the knife in his hand. And Ori was already crawling onto the bed, gently carding his fingers through her curls as he joined the pair.

Logically, now that she was waking up more, she knew that her mother had been fine. Well, not fine- it had begun the illness that had eventually taken her into the arms of the earth mother Yavanna, but she had not been injured by any wolf.

She shifted, moved so that she could run her fingers over her calf, feeling the raised edges of the scar that lay on her skin. It had happened, but not the way that her mind had imagined for her.

They sat that way for a while, Nori eventually seating himself on the edge of the bed- just close enough to be included, but not quite touching them.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Ori finally asked quietly.

"We call it the Fell Winter now." Bilba replied just as quietly, drawing her knees up to her chest. "I was only twenty-four, hardly out of my tweens. The rivers froze- they never froze before, never enough to hold any weight. But they all froze solid. It was a harsher winter than anyone had ever seen or heard of before. Food was beginning to run low for everyone- including the wolves from the north."

Dori sucked in a breath, rubbing gentle circles on the Hobbit's back.

"My mother and I had been south- the snow had never bothered us before, and we wanted to make sure that everyone was doing alright. On the way back… one of the wolf packs caught our scent. My mother held them off and told me to run ahead and warn the rest of Hobbiton, but I was cornered by another lone wolf. It had been separated from its pack, just skin and bones-

She broke off, shivering at the memory of the sharp teeth puncturing her skin, the almost disconnected sensation she'd had with the entire situation as she slashed the small knife across its muzzle, temporarily loosening the teeth holding her and allowing her to climb out of reach.

She'd later learned that her mother had looped back and had been able to warn the Hobbits in time, allowing everyone to barricade their doors and hide in their cellars until the packs had passed. Of course, there had been those who had brushed off the warning- those smials still lay abandoned, even now.

"By Mahal." Dori said. "I remember that winter. We lost a few dwarrow of our own that year. Why didn't you say anything?"

"I haven't dreamed of it for years." Bilba shook her head, sniffling. "I wasn't expecting it to happen now."

"It got you, didn't it." Nori asked levelly.

Bilba nodded. "My leg. I slashed its muzzle with a knife and it let go long enough for me to get to safety."

She had sat in that tree for hours, her clothing soaked through and the temperature dropping, before her mother and a handful of other Hobbits came looking for her, armed to the teeth from her mother's collection and all of them shaken.

No one said anything, but Ori's grip on her shoulders tightened, and Dori's lips pressed even tighter together. Nori's expression didn't change, but he did nod as he stood and stretched.

"I'm headed back to bed." He announced.

"Aye, we should all think about sleep." Dori agreed, shifting slightly. "Bilba, will you be alright?"

"I'll stay up." Ori offered. "I have some translations to work on."

"I'll be fine." Bilba said with a small smile to Dori. "And I could certainly make some tea if you'd like some help, Ori. I don't think I'll be getting back to sleep any time soon."

"Alright. Ori, make sure you get a bit more sleep. Just because you don't have studies with Balin tomorrow doesn't mean you should stay up all night." Dori fussed as he excused himself, wandering down the hall with his usual heavy steps.

"I'll go get my notes." Ori said, squeezing Bilba's shoulders again before he clambered off of the bed and quietly left.

Bilba took a moment to herself, centering herself as she looked around the room before she sighed and pulled on her shawl over her nightgown and wandering down the hall. At one point, she would never have thought of doing such a thing in the same house as a male, and yet here she was, completely at ease among these dwarves.

Again, her traitorous thoughts flitted through her mind, reminding her that she wasn't staying for good. She still had a home in the Shire, and she would be leaving in the spring.

But for now, she would enjoy the time that she had with the brothers, and work hard at the Goose.


	6. To Take a Moment

**Who should Bilba meet next, I wonder? Hmmmm….**

 **This is also the longest chapter so far! Please leave me your thoughts- I love seeing what you all think of Bilba's interactions with the dwarves and how you think the story flows.**

 **ALSO! I love how many of you suddenly want a Bilba/Nori pairing. As I have not actually made a decision on pairings, feel free to suggest any that you might like to see in the future!**

Inspired by a prompt I stumbled upon by _lateforerebor_ on tumblr.

 **Summary: Bilba "Bell" Baggins decides that she's waited quite long enough to take her mother's advice and old stories and go on an adventure of her own. What she didn't expect was to end up in Ered Luin and be adopted by dwarves! AU, Pre-Quest, Undecided Pairings.**

-;-

Bilba hummed a tune to herself as she walked along the bustling street, the snow level decreasing to a much more manageable level over the last couple of days. She had decided that morning that since she had the day to herself that she was going to officially explore Ered Luin, not just wander around on errands for Dori.

She'd already gone by a couple of other taverns, though they were a bit rougher around the edges than the Goose, a brewery, three different market circles, and part of a residential area, and was heading further and further up the mountain. And, she admitted with slight amusement, she was beginning to think she had gotten lost.

However, her curiosity wasn't quite sated yet, and so she continued on, her wonder growing as she took a turn and found herself in the middle of a large stone courtyard, with a large smithy on the far side and what appeared to be a pathway leading to the forest to the left. There were only a handful of dwarves here, and most of them were huddled over anvils, hammers glinting in the light.

"What business do you have here." A low, growled voice said from behind her.

Bilba squeaked, whirling to see one of the most intimidating dwarves she had ever encountered standing before her. His forehead and top of head were bald, perhaps shaved, with blocky tattoos covering most of the skin she could see. One eyebrow was sliced through with a white scar, and it appeared as though part of one of his ears had been chewed off by something. Not to mention he had the broadest shoulders that she had ever seen.

"Er, terribly sorry. I was exploring the city and got a bit lost." She replied, trying not to stutter. "Bilba Baggins, at your service."

"Dwalin, son of Fundin at yours." The dwarf rumbled back in his gravelly voice. "What landmark do you use to return to?"

"The Grey Goose." Bilba said.

There was a pause, followed by a thoughtful frown from Dwalin, before the larger dwarf huffed and turned to walk towards the smithy.

"Follow me."

Bilba didn't dare argue, and she followed the bulky dwarf as he loped over to a blond dwarf who looked about the same age as Ori.

"Fili!"

The blond dwarf paused, glanced up from his work, before setting aside the piece of metal he was shaping and straightening. Handsome would be a good work to describe him- a short blond beard, striking eyes and a lean body underneath his work clothes.

"Yes Dwalin?" he inquired, his gaze flicking to Bilba and showing nothing but open curiosity. "Who's this?"

"Lass came from down the mountain. Got lost. Take her home, will you?"

"Sure thing. Do you want me to take Kili off your hands too?" the blond- Fili- said, wiping his hands on a cloth and swinging it over his shoulder.

"May as well." Dwalin grunted. "Stay out of trouble, or your mother will have both of our heads."

With that, he lumbered off, leaving Bilba's mind in a whirl as she attempted to digest the last minute of activity. Fili gave a bark of laughter and nodded, a bright grin lighting up his face before he wandered towards Bilba, offering a quick bow and a, "Fili, son of Vili at your service."

"Bilba Baggins at yours." The Hobbit replied, rocking back on her feet and offering a tentative smile.

"I hope you don't mind, Miss Baggins, but I'll have to make a quick stop to collect my wayward brother before we head back down the mountain." Fili chuckled before taking notice of her bare feet. "By Mahal, you're not wearing any boots!"

"Ah, no, I'm not." She grinned with a bright laugh. "I'm a Hobbit, you see. We have no need of shoes as you do."

"A Hobbit, you say?" Fili asked. "So you're not from Ered Luin?"

"No, no. I come from the Shire, in the east." Bilba shook her head, suddenly feeling as though she were dealing with Ori all over again. "I've been staying here in the Blue Mountains for the last couple of seasons on a vacation of sorts."

"Odd place to come." Fili commented.

"I didn't think so." She replied.

They walked down the path that Bilba had seen before, Fili snagging a heavier shirt off of another anvil as they went, pulling his hair back into a tail which _really_ wasn't helping because dear Yavanna he was attractive.

"So, I don't think I've ever met a Hobbit before. Do your people often wander away from the Shire?" he asked, shoving his hands into the pockets of his tunic and glancing at her curiously.

"Hardly." Bilba laughed. "No, Hobbits very rarely leave the Shire, lest they happen to be Tooks. In fact, it's considered quite odd if a Hobbit goes wandering like I have."

"You are a very odd lass indeed then." Fili chuckled, a deep, throaty sound as they trekked down, pausing to help Bilba down a couple of steeper places.

"I've been called stranger things." She replied before stopping as Fili raised a hand.

"Hold on." He said softly before letting out a high pitched whistle, followed by two lower.

The Hobbit quirked a brow but did so, adjusting her shawl as she waited to see what would happen next. There were just too many strange things that the Hobbit managed to get herself into, and strange encounters with dwarves seemed to be one of them lately.

Oh well. At least Ori knew she had been out and about today.

In the distance, an answering call replied, and Fili snorted, shaking his head and nodding as he started off again.

"What was that, if you don't mind me asking?" she asked.

"Kili's an archer- he has a range somewhere out this way. I usually try to make myself known so I don't accidentally get shot. It happened once when I was younger- just a graze, but stung like you wouldn't believe. Since then, we have a signal to let one another know that we're on our way."

"That's-"

"Comforting?" Fili finished dryly. "It works, if nothing else."

Another few minutes passed, and then there was a dark haired dwarf that was- if it were even possible- the most fair-featured she had seen yet. He appeared between the trees, an ink blot in the snow, and his lips were turned in a warm smile that turned only slightly into a quizzical one.

"And who's this, Fee?"

"Miss Boggins." Fili replied with a wink to the lass in question. "She wandered into the smithy and we're to take her back down to the Grey Goose."

"The Grey Goose? Isn't that down the mountain?" Kili asked as he slung his bow over his shoulder. "Aren't we supposed to be helping Dwalin with that project later?"

"He's already given us his blessing to get out of his hair and escort this lovely lass home." Fili rolled his eyes. "I don't know if I want to ask what you've done this time."

"Nothing I haven't done before. Besides, mother thought it was hilarious." The darker haired replied loftily- an imp if Bilba had ever seen one. "Now, Miss Boggins, I am Kili son of Vili at your service."

"And I at yours." The Hobbit replied as she realized that Fili had intentionally pronounced her surname incorrectly. It almost made her wonder what the blond dwarf was up to. Almost, but she wasn't about to say anything. She had learned her lesson in the past with asking these sorts of questions.

As it turned out, the trip back down the mountain took just short of an hour, though she certainly didn't go without entertainment. Kili and Fili were both lively and youthful, full of jokes and playful shoves that almost resulted in a wrestling match until she had cleared her throat and quirked a brow. Apparently the look didn't just work on faunts as it had in the Shire, but younger dwarves as well, for the pair had separated with sheepish grins and Kili had momentarily ducked his head.

When the buildings began to become more familiar and the Grey Goose finally came into view, Bilba breathed out a sigh of relief she hadn't known she'd been holding.

"Hey, I think I know who owns this place. Dori, right?" Fili commented as he took in the exterior. "Heard he goes through kitchen staff like crazy."

"You're not wrong." Bilba sighed, shaking her head.

"Also heard he's got some of the best cooks in Ered Luin working for him. Their desserts are supposed to be amazing." The blond dwarf continued, not noticing the Hobbit's flush until Kili nudged him.

"Wait, you mean that you work here?"

"Well… yes?" Bilba replied, feeling a little uncomfortable. "Would you like to come in? I'm sure I could get you something warm to drink for bringing me home."

"We would be honored, Miss Boggins." Kili bowed, perhaps a little more dramatically than was needed, before chuckling and grinning brightly as he bounced back upright. He reminded her a bit of the collies back in the Shire- full of energy and always getting into mischief.

Fili too, looked eager at the prospect of a warm drink, and he nodded gratefully as the Hobbit opened the door and led the way into the Goose, taking note of the handful of dwarves scattered throughout and Dori, who was just vanishing through the kitchen door.

Kili's bow garnered a few odd looks from a few, but a firm look from Bilba had the dwarves in question clearing their throats and looking back to their meals as she seated the pair in the corner table.

"Anything in particular you'd like? We have warm ciders, ale, and tea." Bilba asked, tossing her curls out of her eyes and propping her hands on her hips. "I believe the special is a spiced apple ale, and our tea of the day is a walnut black tea."

"Two spiced apple ales then, my lady." Fili nodded, Kili echoing his brother's choice.

"I'll have those for you in just a moment."

"Bilba! What are you doing here today? I thought you said you were going to go and explore the mountain?" Dori inquired as the Hobbit entered the kitchen. "Gracious, you look chilled to the bone! Bombur- mint tea for Bilba, please!"

"I was out exploring." She said, accepting the mug of tea from Bombur as he passed by. "But I'm afraid I got a little turned about and ended up lost. Thankfully, I wandered into a smithy and a couple of younger dwarrow brought me back down the mountain. I was hoping to pay for their drinks in thanks."

"Nonsense. They brought you home safe and sound. It's on the house." Dori nodded before shooing the resident Hobbit from the kitchen. "Go offer them my thanks while I get their drinks."

"Two of the spiced apple ales, please!" Bilba called as she went, balancing her mug of tea with practiced ease and dodging the well-aimed swat from a cloth that the silver haired dwarf had gotten his hands on.

"Remind me why I put up with that lass again?" Dori muttered with a fond shake of his head.

"Likely 'cause she's one of the finest the Goose's had in a long while." Rorin replied, ducking when Dori went to swat him too.

"It was a rhetorical question, you fool!"

-;-

Just when everyone thought that the snows had paused for the winter, Ered Luin got another solid foot or so of the white fluff, completely covering the streets and driving everyone indoors.

Almost.

"Dori, look out!"

The silver haired dwarf was a half second too slow to dodge, and a rather solid snowball hit him square between the shoulders.

Bilba's hands covered her mouth in horror, though her lips twisted into a laugh at the utterly baffled expression that crossed Dori's face. Ori too, looked appropriately shocked before the pair of them dissolved into hysterical laughter.

Nori, who was sitting on the stair in front of the door smoking his pipe, looked amused as he surveyed the damage. Bilba had insisted that they all get out and enjoy the fresh air, considering that she had no need or want to deal with dwarves after they had gotten a hint of cabin-fever. Ori had hardly been a challenge, considering how young he was, and Nori certainly had no problems with the snow- not unless he was attempting to avoid the cursed stuff. But Dori… well, Dori preferred not to venture outdoors in this sort of weather unless it was imperative.

"Sorry!" the Hobbit squeaked. "I didn't mean to-"

Bilba was cut off by a snowball straight to the face, sending her flying back onto her rear with a completely dumbfounded expression on her features.

Dori brushed off the remaining snow from his hands, a positively devilish grin spreading on his features as Ori suddenly squawked and dove for cover behind a snow bank.

"Now you've done it!" Ori's voice accused.

Bilba made a noise that may have been agreement before her features settled into a determined expression that could only mean trouble.

"This means war!" she called, rolling up her sleeves and racing to join Ori behind the snow bank.

"Is that so?" Dori asked pleasantly, stooping to scoop snow into his hands, a dark grin on his lips. Nori couldn't help the snort that escaped him, though he at least was able to dodge the packed snow that his eldest brother lobbed at him, making a noise of protest as he adjusted himself.

"Leave me out of it!" he protested.

"I think not, troll!" Dori barked out a laugh before lumbering towards him.

Nori did what any dwarf would do in such a situation- beat a hasty retreat to safety whilst planning the best course of action to retaliate.

"Ah, Nori, how nice of you to join us." Bilba said pleasantly, handing the dwarf a snowball as he tried to tuck away his pipe without damaging it. "I have a plan, but we're going to need a distraction."

Ori nodded, his cheeks a bright red as he beamed at his older brother, his fledgling beard full of snow and his hair sticking in all directions. He was fairly certain that his own finely groomed hair would no doubt look the same soon enough, if it didn't already, and Bilba's curls were only going to get worse now that moisture had been added to the mix.

That was an interesting thing that they had all realized the first time she had come in from playing in the snow, her curls matted and even more curled than usual.

"What kind of distraction." He asked suspiciously.

She beamed at him.

-;-

"For the record, it was all _her_ idea." Nori said as the four of them stomped their way into the house, Bera still slung over Dori's shoulder and giggling madly as snow continued falling from the pair of them. "Ori and I were just the distraction."

Bilba shrieked in laughter as Dori swung her down onto the couch, bouncing back and continuing her mad laughter. She would never forget the look of utter shock that had crossed Dori's face as he realized that he had been positioned just so under the roof and that their Hobbit had knocked all of the snow off with a perfectly aimed snowball. Never, as long as she lived.

"I can believe it." Dori muttered dryly, shooting the Hobbit a look as he began peeling layers of clothing off, prompting the other two males in the room to do the same. "Bilba, when you've quite finished your moment of lunacy, go get changed into something dry."

Dwarves certainly had little sense of modesty- few thought twice about changing clothes in front of others, and while Bilba had been staying with them she had somehow been included into the extremely limited group that they were comfortable with outside of their own people. Not that Bilba knew that, of course.

"Of course, Dori." She finally wheezed, taking a couple of long breaths in an attempt to calm herself down. "Of course. I'll be back in a moment to hang my wet things up."

She hauled herself up, ignoring the chill that ran down her spine as some remaining snow worked its way through the fabric, and went to her room. It had somehow become hers now, in most sense of the word- though now that she and Nori seemed to have an understanding she had repeatedly offered it back to him, to no avail.

They had taken a shine to the Hobbit lass, despite most stigma and their general mistrust of others. Certainly, Dori had been hasty in offering lodging so easily to a Halfling who was not of their kind, but he could not say that it had not turned out for the better.

"Bilba, are you coming?" Ori called down the hall as she finished pulling on her skirts, skillfully lacing them and choosing to not wear the small corset. Not that she wore them often, now.

Since travelling to the Blue Mountains, she had slowly been wearing such things less and less, and now she only wore her dwarven tunic that cut neatly across her collarbone and settled on her shoulders over her skirts, a belt holding it close to her waist.

"Hold on a moment!" she called back.

"And bring your comb!"

Now that one brought her up short. She could not recall ever being told _that_ before.

However, she grabbed it from the small table next to the bed and wandered back down the hall to the main room, where a hearty fire had been stoked and was blazing merrily as the trio of dwarves worked at pulling their braids from their matted hair.

She couldn't help the small noise that escaped her at that one. Never had she seen any of them without their familiar styles- Ori with his rather endearing bowl cut and braids, Nori with his tri-pointed star and beard braids, and particularly Dori, who always had his beard and hair tightly braided up and pulled to the back of his head. All three of them worked with a warmth and familiarity that had her pausing until Dori cleared his throat and patted the furred rug on the floor next to him.

"Come on now, we certainly don't bite." The silver haired dwarf rolled his eyes as he worked at pulling Ori's braids loose, Nori working on Dori's, his own half down. "Help Nori with the mess he calls hair and then we'll see if we can't figure out something for you."

Nori made a noise that may have been the start of an argument- his fingers flicked at the edge of Dori's peripheral before the older dwarf growled something back in their tongue, silencing the ginger haired dwarf firmly.

Bilba suddenly felt quite insecure as she sat down in the group and very tentatively reached out to Nori's hair- her own was getting long, now falling well past her shoulders- but as she carefully carded her fingers through the strands and gently pulled out the clasps, she realized that hers was certainly not as long as theirs.

Dori's was to his ribs, once it was all said and done, with his beard hanging to the middle of his chest. Ori's hair was just shorter than her own, to which she felt slightly better, but Nori's was the longest by far. His beard was cropped to his chest, but the rest of his hair fell to mid-back in a thick mass. It was softer than she imagined it would have felt, though.

When Bilba removed her hands from Nori's hair, the dwarf made a discontented sound in the back of his throat, but made no further movement. Dori and Ori were watching her with thinly veiled amusement, to which she looked at them in confusion. Had she done something wrong?

"Nori rather enjoys his hair being played with." Ori stage-whispered to her as Nori finally straightened and pulled his hair over his shoulder, a leather band quickly looping around the locks and tied off. "Dori thinks he's part cat sometimes."

Nori made another negative noise before sighing and rolling his shoulders, turning to look at the Hobbit with dark eyes.

"Your turn." He said, his accent slightly thicker than usual, motioning for her to turn so he could get at her tangled locks.

Dori shook his head before corralling Ori into position so that he could work his braids back into his shorter hair, his fingers moving surprisingly nimbly as he separated the locks into sections. A comfortable silence fell as Nori carefully worked out the tangles in Bilba's copper curls and Dori hummed a soft tune.

She'd forgotten the sensation of someone else running their hands through her hair- the last time she could recall had been when both of her parents had been among the living. Her mother had often pulled her hair back so that she wouldn't catch it on anything while she was out and about wandering the Shire and the forests that surrounded it on her quest for elves.

She tilted her head back as calloused fingers worked their way closer to her scalp, her eyes closing as she sighed quietly.

Ori nudged Dori and gestured at the lass, and Dori smiled affectionately at their Hobbit. Nori, too, had a faintly amused smirk on his features as he carefully carded his fingers through the lass' thick curls, finally pulling back several strands and loosely plaiting them on each side of her temples, joining them into a single loose plait at the back of her head before tying it off with another leather tie.

"Seems you and Nori both seem to enjoy having your hair played with." Dori chuckled as he finished with Ori's braids, turning to allow the youngest of the dwarves access to his fine silver strands. "Can't say I'm too surprised."

"It's a very soothing sensation." Bilba hummed lowly in her throat, blinking open her eyes again and turning to Nori. "May I braid your hair, Nori?"

The ginger haired dwarf paused, his gaze flicking to Dori, who signed something that the Hobbit didn't see as she searched for her comb. He signed back, the pair quickly flying through a silent conversation, before Nori finally shrugged and nodded once.

"Would you like me to do a simple plait for now? I'm afraid I don't have quite the same attention to detail that you all do with your lovely beards and other braids." The Hobbit further inquired as she worked the leather tie from Nori's hair.

Like this, she mused, they were all rather attractive to her- another oddity that she had seemed to pick up since arriving in the Blue Mountains. The same things that were considered attractive in the Shire certainly didn't appeal to her as much as what did now- namely, long manes of hair, beards, and far too many muscles to count. And broad shoulders.

So pretty much every dwarf that she saw.

Bombur was really the only one who appealed to her Hobbit sensibilities, being large (a sign of wealth in the Shire), able to cook (very important to be able to provide for your family), and having a quieter personality than say… Rorin. Or Bofur. Who were both very charming in their own rights, mind.

"That would be fine." The middle Ri replied quietly, and Bilba nodded and got to work, pulling his hair into a loose four strand plait and swiftly weaving it together with a practiced ease that she hadn't fully demonstrated for the dwarves previously.

Of course, Bilba didn't know that braiding one's hair in such a manner, with the group, often signified acceptance of someone into the family group, sometimes even signifying an adoption into a particular family depending on setting and situation. Nor did she know that Dori and Nori had had a rather thorough argument about the Hobbit braiding his hair in Iglishmek only moments before.

What she didn't know wouldn't hurt her… right?


	7. It Calls Me Home

**And I'm back! Bet you guys weren't expecting a triple introduction with Dwalin and the boys! So sorry for the delay in posting- I've had a really long and weird work week and some other stuff's been going on.**

 **I should also note that I've sort of hit a rut with how long I want Bilba to remain in Ered Luin- suggestions are welcome, since it's part of the reason it took so long to post.**

Inspired by a prompt I stumbled upon by _lateforerebor_ on tumblr.

 **Summary: Bilba "Bell" Baggins decides that she's waited quite long enough to take her mother's advice and old stories and go on an adventure of her own. What she didn't expect was to end up in Ered Luin and be adopted by dwarves! AU, Pre-Quest, Undecided Pairings.**

-;-

After the first night of braiding one another's hair- grooming, Dori had corrected- it seemed as though a small door had opened into the world of the Hobbit lass who lived with the trio of dwarves.

Firstly, it seemed, was the much more frequent gatherings during the evenings. Once everyone had gotten ready for bed, Dori would brew some tea and they would all retreat to the hearth, taking over Nori's bed- which had actually been replaced with a bed, at this point, and was no longer a couch. They would laugh as Nori recounted some of his less than stellar stories, as Ori scribbled away on his notes in his large journal and Bilba quietly corrected his spelling for the Sindarin translations.

Inevitably, they would end up loosening their braids and allowing one another to card fingers through hair- a comb, if someone happened to remember.

What wasn't quite so expected was the eagerness of the trio to braid Bilba's hair- quite often Ori would win, and braid simple but effective plaits into her ever growing hair.

Bilba had once asked for a blade so that she could trim off some of the length, only to be greeted with the sight of recoiling dwarves, horror written on their features. As it turned out, it was not common at all for a dwarrow to cut his or her hair unless there was an extreme circumstance behind it, such as grief.

"The prince," Dori had explained, "cut off his beard after the fall of Erebor in remembrance of those who lost their lives there. It is likely that he will not allow it to grow again unless our homeland has been reclaimed."

Needless to say, Bilba had not persisted on the issue. And, truth be told, she rather enjoyed seeing what her dwarves would come up with next for her hair. Nothing that they wove into her locks was overly cumbersome- mostly small braids that kept the strands from getting into her eyes as she worked in the kitchens at the Goose- and she quickly picked up several that she could do herself.

Not long after their nightly ritual had begun, Bilba had been presented with a set of her own hair beads. They were carved from wood, with small ivy leaves embossed on each one, but the Hobbit had put two and two together to realize that it was not just a gift. She had been listening to Dori and Ori going over their lessons, and her questions had netted a few answers of her own regarding dwarven culture.

The main point that she picked up on was that hair beads were almost on a sacred level in dwarven society. Only those that felt truly comfortable would gift a set of beads to those who were not dwarves as recognition of their own "House", so to speak. Needless to say, Bilba had gotten lost in that particular conversation fairly quickly.

What she did understand, however, was how precious the wooden beads were as her dwarves wove a specific plait into her hair. One over the other, the three horizontal four-strand plaits began at the front of her temple and ended behind her ear, one bead tying off the end of each one. Later, she learned, the trio had each carved their own specific details into each bead.

Dori had somehow carved a goose on his, entwined with the ivy motif that appeared on all of the beads. For Nori, it was a book- no explanation was needed as to why. And Ori carved an apple, to remind her of home.

And as for the final bead, she was told, that would be her carving. Dori promised that he would teach her how to wield the correct tools when the time came, but for the moment, the fourth and final bead was tucked away at the side of her bed.

When she began wearing them to the Goose, the reactions were mixed. Most were startled or shocked, while others simply laughed and nodded, knowing that the lass had certainly managed to earn her keep and then some in Ered Luin since her arrival the prior summer.

But, as she knew it would, the snows melted from the mountains as spring began to dawn once more in the east, and Bilba's glances to the west became more and more often as she warred with herself on returning to the Shire. This was the longest she had ever been away from the familiar rolling hills and busybody neighbors and the warmth of Bag End.

Then again, she certainly hadn't expected to find a place for herself in the Blue Mountains. Stay there, yes. Find a family of dwarves who took her in with nary a thought- no. And since she had learned more and more about their history, how they had never been taken in by the towns of Men and no aid had come to them after the fire of Smaug, Bilba had firmly set her mind that she would never turn away a hungry traveller or passersby in need again.

Especially if they were dwarves, she decided.

-;-

Ori had learned quite a bit about Hobbits since Miss Bilba Baggins of the Shire had come to Ered Luin- firstly, that they even existed! He hadn't travelled much- or ever, really, thanks to Dori and their mother- from the Blue Mountains save for a trip when he was a dwarfling when their traders went to Bree to sell goods. However, his memories of the occasion were blurry at best.

Most of the things Ori learned about Miss Bilba- just Bilba, now- he kept careful notes of in his notebook with neat lines of runes and the odd sketch of the Hobbit here and there.

Firstly, and the most noticeable of all about the Hobbits- for that was what they were called, after all- was the distinct lack of footwear that they had. Instead, their larger than average feet were adorned with tufts of curls on the tops- presumably to keep them warm in the cooler weather. This theory was still in progress as the winter melted away. Their soles were also thicker, so that they could keep their footing on uncertain terrain.

Ori wasn't positive, but he knew for a fact that that terrain likely wasn't mountainous, judging by the two times that the Hobbit had managed to stumble or cut her foot on particularly sharp rocks.

Secondly, and the most important- Hobbits loved food. In fact, their bodies burned through the energy that they had so quickly that they often needed _seven meals_ a day! Bilba had assured them from day one that she only had five at the most these days- since her parents had died, she later explained, her appetite just hadn't been the same. Regardless, that had been a topic of fascination for Ori until he had nearly driven the poor lass to frustrated madness.

(Bilba still didn't know where the extra snacks were coming from, but it was Nori).

Among the other, finer points of Hobbits and their culture, Ori discovered that a single married couple could have up to twenty children in their lives, if not more. Bilba's own mother was one of three daughters and nine sons- numbering _twelve_ in total.

Dori, who had been present for that conversation, had actually choked on his tea at the news. While it was not uncommon for dwarven families to number up to three or four dwarflings, twelve was almost an impossible number. Especially with the rarity of dwarrowdams these days.

Then there was their inherent and instinctive fear of water. Well, not water, but running rivers, lakes, the likes of which the bottom could not easily be reached or was nigh invisible to the naked eye. Hobbits were not a race suited to the water, but over time the Tooks and Brandybucks had figured out the finer points of swimming, and could do so if pressed.

But then there were the things that Ori learned about _Bilba_. Her likes, dislikes, personal quirks and the other little things that made her Bilba.

Like how, when she was working in the kitchen at the Goose, her nose would scrunch up ever so slightly as if she were deep in thought. Or how she couldn't stand the days were the sun and clouds were at odds- _"the weather should be one or the other, not both at the same time!"_ , and would laugh at the rain and smile at the sun and play in the snow.

She had somehow become a part of their little family.

Dori, with his mother-goose tendencies and temper that could shame even the worst tempered of folk, who made his tea and managed the tavern and couldn't seem to keep a good cook in the kitchen for more than a couple of days at a time.

Nori, who when one got to know him was charming and flightly and more than a little flirtatious with most everyone- or everyone that mattered to him. Who always managed to provide for them but never admitted his motivations and would never, _ever_ tell Dori that he still cared even though he rarely came home.

And him, Ori. The scribe who wanted to see the world and tell his stories in his notebooks. Who loved his teas and brothers and would always be there for them, even if they were being ridiculous and arguing like dwarflings.

And now Bilba. Sweet Bilba with a temper like a fire and a need to see the world for herself and write her own stories, and who somehow managed to charm three dwarves of all people, just because she was herself.

But Ori knew that Bilba couldn't stay forever. He knew that one day, their Hobbit would return to the Shire and they wouldn't see her every morning when they gathered and prepared themselves for the day ahead. He knew, and he was trying to tell himself that it wouldn't be so bad, and that he could visit her during the summer months and return for the winters in Ered Luin so he wouldn't worry Dori.

He saw her gaze turn more and more to the horizon, and Ori knew that they couldn't keep their Hobbit with them, even if they wanted to. While she lived among them and knew them, was learning about them every day and learning more and more about how special it was that she knew them, she didn't truly belong with a people of the stone and earth. She belonged on the grass and skies and warm hearths.

So he would treasure the time that they had before she returned to her home in the Shire. Before their Bilba would become more fond memories than everyday life.

Before she left.

-;-

It was a lovely day in the midst of spring that Bilba finally felt the call of the Shire in her core.

The Goose had been officially closed for the day so that everyone could enjoy the rare sunshine that shone down upon the tentatively blooming earth, and Bilba, Ori and Dori were all seated on a blanket that had been dragged out of the house to enjoy such weather.

It started innocently enough, with the lass tilting her head to one side as Ori recounted his studies with Balin that morning, before her brows slowly began to furrow and her gaze slid away from her dwarves and to the horizon in the east, as it usually had been as of late.

"Bilba?" Dori inquired after Ori asked a question that did not receive an answer.

"Oh, pardon me. What was that, Ori?" the lass coughed, returning her gaze to the pair, her cheeks flushing. "I seem to have lost myself in thought a moment."

"You seem to have been doing that quite a bit." Dori said knowingly, a worried crease around his eyes. "If you truly wish to return to the Shire-"

"It's not that." The hobbit said quietly. "The exact opposite, I suppose. I miss the Shire, but I don't want to leave you. Silly, isn't it? I never meant to stay here so long, and yet now I seem to have found a home here."

"It's not silly." Ori shook his head. "I don't think it's silly."

"Thank you, Ori." Bilba smiled. "Perhaps I should return to the Shire for a short while- make sure those dratted Sackville-Bagginses haven't gotten into my things and put some other orders of business to rights."

"You know that we shall be right here, Bilba." Dori laid a hand on her shoulder. "You go and do what you need to do, and we shall wait for you."

The hobbit appeared to have slightly damp eyes as she nodded and rose to her feet with a cheerful smile, heading inside to pack her things.

-;-

Not many knew when she left, only that she had returned to the Shire to take care of some business. Those particularly nosy and brave enough to approach Dori were told little, and Nori and Ori were equally as vague. They of course knew when Bilba would be returning, and so Dori found little point in attempting to replace her at the Grey Goose while she was gone. It wasn't like there were many willing enough to put up with him anyway, seeing as he had gone through most, if not all, of the available cooks in Ered Luin.

It was a foggy morning when the Hobbit set out, her pack on her shoulders with only her most important possessions. She certainly couldn't bring everything back with her on this trip, after all. It certainly wouldn't be logical, considering the distance that she had to travel- adding even more luggage to her load would only take longer to trek with.

As it was, it only took the better half of a month to return to the Shire, and as the familiar rolling hills and puffing chimneys came into view, something within her chest finally loosened and gave way to the warmth of home. It had been almost a year that she had been gone, after all- how much had changed, she wondered?

Her first stop was to her cousins the Tooks in the south. She had sent a letter shortly before she had initially departed to let them know that the wandering lust had finally come calling to her, and that she would be journeying to the west. It also detailed that she would eventually return, and to keep Lobelia Sackville-Baggins in particular from getting too close to her smial. Bag End had been built by Bungo Baggins for his wife and their family, and she would be damned before she allowed that wretch of a Hobbit to get her fingers on her family home.

Her cousins, of course, were all eager to hear of her adventures- _"Bilba Baggins, off on an adventure of her own! Who could have predicted this?",_ and _"Oho, looks like you've more Took in you than we thought, eh Bilba?"_

Her grandmother Adamanta, the current matriarch of the Tooks, insisted that her granddaughter stay for luncheon, citing the need to catch up. After all, it had been quite some time since Bilba had last visited, and the feisty hobbit attempted to play the old-but-charming card. Which worked, as it always did.

So, full of fresh hobbit cuisine, Bilba was off once again, briefly escorted by a pair of her cousins (Paladin and Esmerelda, if she recalled correctly, though which family line they belonged to was a mystery to Bilba).

But oh, Bag End eventually came into sight, the setting sun illuminating the familiar windows, the green door that had been ever so carefully painted by her father's hands all those years ago. This was home, she thought to herself. This was where she would lay her head to rest without a care in the world, despite having found such a thing back to the west in the Blue Mountains as well.

Opening the door, removing the note that proclaimed her intentions, Bilba stepped into Bag End and let out a sigh of nostalgia as the scent of the earth and the wood beams surrounded her.

She had missed this.


	8. It Was the Calm

**Eeeeeeee, you guys have no idea how stoked I was to see that Call Me Home has already reached 30 reviews! You guys are absolutely incredible and I feel so, so blessed.**

 **A quick shout-out to CoffeeRanger, who has been so lovely so far- you're awesome, and don't worry, we haven't seen the last of Bilba and our dwarves yet! There's been some tweaking with the timeline to make everything work out right.**

 **And I** _ **will**_ **be continuing Call Me Home through the quest! I've already begun working on the very first drafts of those chapters- and oh, are they ever rough.**

Inspired by a prompt I stumbled upon by _lateforerebor_ on tumblr.

 **Summary: Bilba "Bell" Baggins decides that she's waited quite long enough to take her mother's advice and old stories and go on an adventure of her own. What she didn't expect was to end up in Ered Luin and be adopted by dwarves! AU, Pre-Quest, Undecided Pairings.**

-;-

Life without Bilba was… odd, for the first couple of weeks after her departure.

Ori, so used to getting into intellectual discussions over the translations that Balin continued to leave him as assignments, frequently turned and asked the air whether or not that this particular word happened to be "bird" or "bear" in Sindarin, only to blink and silently return to his work as he realized that the hobbit wasn't there.

Dori's work at the Goose shifted slightly. Where Bilba had been the glue to hold the males in the kitchen together, the trio of them all found themselves feeling slightly displaced as they readjusted themselves accordingly so that they could continue their work. Bombur and Rorin still got on well, both being cheerful sorts, but Dori resorted back to his crankier self as he rearranged shifts and began the search for yet another cook.

And Nori- well, no one really knew what went on in Nori's head, only that he seemed to be stuck in a more thoughtful state than usual, as if he were trying to solve a particularly difficult conundrum. What he did know, however, was that Bilba had left her fourth and final bead of her set behind when she had left. As well as this, he made no efforts in reclaiming his old room- it had seen far more use with Bilba living in it, and it simply didn't quite seem right to displace her belongings.

Dori was surprised that Nori had even continued to stay after the hobbit lass had left. It had seemed as though Bilba were the only thing standing between he and Nori at times, given that they got along as well as dwarves and elves most of the time. But, as the first month passed by, it appeared as though Nori planned on staying a while longer.

It was also about this time that rumors began circling Ered Luin- the prince was leaving once again to continue searching for the king. It was a well-known fact that Thorin Oakenshield, son of Thrain, son of Thror had been following the whispers that the lost king was still alive. He had been chasing them for the past several seasons, and had only briefly returned at the beginning of the spring for whatever reason. Now he was setting out once again, and this time he was taking his right hand, Dwalin son of Fundin, with him. Balin, Ori said, seemed to be doing well despite the fact that his brother was leaving Ered Luin.

Bofur and his brother both didn't quite know how to deal with the Ri brothers- well, Bombur did, but Bofur was left with a rather sulky and strange Nori to deal with- and Bifur had only met the lass once, during one of his absentminded episodes.

But, as they quickly discovered, Bilba was not gone.

Not quite.

At the month mark, a rather exhausted looking dove fluttered on the windowsill of their residence, bringing with it a large letter. Dori gave responsibility of nursing the poor thing back to health, given his youngest brother's tendency to look after wounded animals.

 _Dear Dori, Nori and Ori,_

 _I hope this letter finds you in good spirits, as I certainly am!_

 _My return to the Shire was uneventful, though I must admit that I sorely missed the three of you- and still do, really. My Bag End is much too quiet, and I realize that while in the Blue Mountains I found something rather important with you- a family. Now, I know it is sentimental, but you know how I am wont to get in such a manner when I fall into my thoughts. Bag End was built as a family home, and I find that as a single, unmarried Hobbit of nearly fifty summers, this place is simply not the home I remember it to be._

 _In fact, I am considering leaving it to one of my cousins- Primula. She won't be of her majority for a couple of years yet, but I imagine that it will be a marvelous home for her and her children when the time comes. She and I were close- well, as close as we could be, considering she currently lives in the south with the rest of the Tooks- as faunts, and I think Bag End will be in good hands with her._

 _Better than those blasted Sackville-Bagginses, anyway._

 _Did you know that they made not one, but three attempts to break into Bag End whilst I was away? Three! Lobelia must be getting desperate. However, she'll have to pry my mother's silver from my cold, dead fingers if she'll ever want it. Which I am sure that she would be all too happy to oblige, now that I think of it._

 _I will return for a short visit again, and likely arrive several weeks after this letter finds you- approximately midsummer, as I arrived last year. However, I think I shall return to the Shire for the harvest- I don't think I could miss another year of my cousins' famous apple brews! I shall also stay the winter, as travelling will likely turn too perilous. Come the spring and summer, however, you shall see me once more!_

 _Nori, you are most welcome to move back into your room- it is yours, after all. Just mind the bead that I left behind, and don't pocket it absently. I know you tend to do things like that when you grow bored._

 _Ori, make sure to keep up with your Sindarin translations- they truly do help in learning the language, I promise. My mother made me translate three whole books before I finally managed to figure out what she was up to, and I can speak it quite well these days, if I do say so myself._

 _And Dori, I must thank you once again for opening your home and your heart to me, despite my being a completely difference race than your own. Since returning to the Shire, I realize now that we are not so different. Hobbits can be just as suspicious and wary of outsiders as you, but I have found that dwarrow are much easier to get on with._

 _I sincerely pray you never have to meet the Baggins side of the family._

 _I must be off, there are some matters to attend to and I am off to the south again to visit my cousins this day. Remember to watch for me on the mountain path!_

 _May your harvests be bountiful,_

 _Bilba Baggins_

-;-

The Shire, Bilba realized once she had begun settling in again, was not the same place of quiet tranquility that she had once enjoyed. The silence was too silent, and her neighbors were actively avoiding her, not that she cared a whit. The lot of them were close-minded, wool-over-their-eyes-ninnies, and she would cheerfully tell them as much if she got the blasted opportunity.

Hobbits, you see, are rather judgemental creatures at their cores.

The first thing to know is about wealth- your smial directly represented that wealth, and those who were less fortunate were often looked down upon for such a thing. Bag End was one of the most extravagant smials in the entirety of the Shire, with the exceptions of the Tooks and Brandybucks. Given their histories for wandering and trading, quite a bit of coin had come their way and shifted hands throughout the family tree.

Belladonna in particular had inherited quite a sum when she was younger, and had invested it and traded it to hone her talents until she had amassed a fortune. Bungo Baggins, on the other side, came from a wealthy line overall- handed down from one son to the next until it came to him.

The next was marriage. While many a Hobbit were known to have a romp- or twenty- throughout their tween years, they were eventually expected to marry, settle down, and have many children. Bungo and Belladonna were known to be rather odd given they only had one child, but the Tooks laughed and nodded and said it was quite like their sister/cousin to do such a thing.

Bilba was seen as rather odd herself, considering that she had never quite become inclined to romp with more than two or three lads and lasses as a tween, and she had never settled or married, either. Even now, there were whispers of what would happen to the fortune when she died, for she had not named an heir, nor had she provided one.

And these things both led to the most vital of Hobbit society- their respectability.

It was completely unrespectable to go on adventures and quests, to which the Tooks and Brandybucks had always laughed at, which made them more than a little odd in the eyes of the rest of the Hobbit families. A respectable Hobbit would marry right out of their tweens, make sure their wealth was large and their children many, and would never do anything to jeopardize their standing in society.

And Bilba Baggins, the odd spinster, as they had begun calling her, had gone adventuring to the west.

Those who knew her well, such as Hamfast Gamgee and his wife- had practically been raised with the lasses of Bag End, and as their gardener had come to grips with the fact that there were always going to be the exasperated sighs and murmurs and pinching the bridges of noses when it came to Belladonna and Bilba Baggins.

But quite truthfully, as Bilba had realized, she didn't care what the others thought of her now. She had finally realized why her mother had encouraged her to go out and see the world for herself. It was much more than her books and maps, and she would never have figured it out if it hadn't been for her mother's words.

And oh, the first couple of days were all too amusing for the hobbit lass, watching her neighbors quickly see that she had not in fact died as the rumors had said. Not that it would mean much, considering that her will and other papers were safely in the hands of her mother's family. She knew the Tooks would never allow their Belladonna's home to fall into the hands of a Sackville-Baggins.

So, it was a week after she returned to the Shire that Bilba Baggins threw herself into preparations to leave again. She went to the market the day after and immediately began buying provisions that would keep for the near month journey, as well as sending off a dove to her aunt Mirabella, who was known for her excellent oilskins, hoping to commission one for her trip.

Then there were the quilts and blankets, just in case any dwarves or other company might come calling while she was still there- a small chance, she knew, but just in case!

"Odd," the hobbits whispered as she passed. "Vanishing for so long and then returning to this."

"Unmarried," others would say, "and yet she goes traipsing off without care as to what will happen to her fortune when she passes!"

 _Oh, wouldn't they just love to know that they didn't stand a chance._ Bilba thought smugly as she went about her business, collecting and knitting and sewing gifts for her dwarves and continuing to collect other objects for her smial.

One day in particular, she went knocking on Hamfast's door, cheerfully depositing a rather large sum of coin into the surprised gardener's hands and telling him that he had done a simply marvelous job of keeping Bag End looking beautiful, and that if he wouldn't mind doing it a little longer she would be ever so grateful.

And during every evening, the lass would sit out on her stoop and smoke her pipe, watching the smoke curl up towards the sky and thinking how wonderful life truly was. How marvelous the world was, outside of her books and maps, and how blessed they were to be able to walk upon the earth. The Shire was lovely, but since her wanderings had begun Bilba realized that it was not just the Shire but everything that was lovely.

She began writing, too. Of how her mother's words had finally gotten through her thick Took skull and she had begun her own wanderings. It would never be published, of course, but it felt right to get the words onto parchment with the ink- not to mention how soothing it was to scrawl a few lines into her journal each morning while she made breakfast.

Finally, Bilba began to reconnect with her Took and Brandybuck cousins. There were no shortage of them, and after passing through, a handful of them followed her back to Hobbiton for a brief stay. Not immediately, of course- they gave her a few days before showing up eagerly at her doorstep like a pack of lost pups, all of them asking what her adventure was like. It was odd, really, how easily they accepted her as she was compared to the rest of the hobbits who lived nearby.

 _Refreshing_ would be the word she chose.

-;-

It was about this time that a wandering wizard cloaked in grey caught faint whispers of a lost prince searching for his kin, among his travels to the far north. Searching for the lost king of Erebor, the Lonely Mountain, tore asunder by the great and terrible drake Smaug.

 _Perhaps_ , the wizard thought, _there will be some merit to these rumors._

And so on he continued, his course altered for the south, an idea forming in the back of his mind as he went, those who did not know of him murmuring of his strange ways and form.

 _Perhaps,_ he thought, _there is a chance._


	9. And Back Again

**A few more reviews and we'll hit the big five-oh, guys!**

 **I think it's safe to say that I have decided that the main pairing will NOT BE Thorin/Bilba. I honestly don't have anything against the ship- I've seen some really well written works that have Bagginshield, but I don't think it's the direction that I would like to take.**

 **However, my mind hasn't been set on any pairings (other than the aforementioned Bagginshield) so please feel free to tell me your thoughts/ideas!**

 **Thank you so much for your support, and Merry Christmas!**

Inspired by a prompt I stumbled upon by _lateforerebor_ on tumblr.

 **Summary: Bilba "Bell" Baggins decides that she's waited quite long enough to take her mother's advice and old stories and go on an adventure of her own. What she didn't expect was to end up in Ered Luin and be adopted by dwarves! AU, Pre-Quest, Undecided Pairings.**

-;-

When the hobbit lass with the sunny smile and dwarvish beads in her hair wandered up the well-worn path to the initial markets of the Blue Mountains, she was met with a much different reaction than she had first encountered.

Dwarves waved and smiled at her, some even calling out in welcome that she had returned, some even mentioning the Goose as she passed by. A small handful even tried to get her to take goods and wares, though Bilba had to draw a line somewhere and that seemed as good as any. While the heat from the sun was uncomfortable at best, the short little barefooted creature continued on, her destination well set in mind.

It certainly hadn't been quite as easy to reach the mountains this time around. The weather, paired with a larger number of orcs in the area, had the Rangers out in full forces to cut them off. Thankfully, Bilba had managed to run into a friendly sort of fellow by the name of Alanidiel (a rather elvish name, she would admit) who had accompanied her as far as he was able before seeing her off. Not that they had even seen hide or hair of an orc or warg, but she appreciated the gesture nonetheless.

They had parted ways not too far from the Blue Mountains, Alanidiel returning to the main group to the north-east, Bilba continuing west.

She looked around at the peaks surrounding the buildings, a warmth building in her chest. This was another home to her, now. And, she had even made sure to put in her papers that she had delivered to her cousins that if anything were to happen to her while on her adventures, Bag End would go to someone who would love it just as her mother and father had. In a more direct manner, Primula.

Bilba had to stop by the bakery stall though- the scent of spices was too tempting for the hobbit to simply pass by without getting something. After several moments, she chose a spiced tart that she gratefully paid for before shifting her pack and continuing on her way, waving to a couple of dwarrow she recognized from her days at the Goose.

The closer she got to the Ri home, the lighter her steps got, until Bilba was practically skipping her way along the road and earning quite a few amused and confused stares that quickly changed to fond amusement as they realized just who it was.

She had just come into view of the familiar house when suddenly, the hobbit was nearly bowled over and a thick pair of arms wrapped firmly around her hips and chest, evoking a startled squawk as her air supply was suddenly cut off.

"By Mahal, lass, you certainly took your time!" Bofur chuckled as he finished swinging the hobbit about and gently setting her back down to the ground. "Been too quiet around here without your pretty smile to keep us lads in line!"

"Bofur, you scoundrel!" Bilba laughed as she dusted herself off, making sure nothing had been shifted out of place before propping her hands on her hips. "Don't scare me like that!"

She didn't really mean it- mostly. She and Bofur had an easy, bantering friendship.

"That's what Bilba Baggins hates!" he chimed back in a sing-song voice. He had such a lovely tenor, Bilba mused as she took his arm and allowed herself to be escorted further up the street.

"One day I will find a way to get back at you for coming up with that tune." She muttered half-heartedly. "And I will make sure you never forget it."

"Aye, I have no doubt you will." The hatted dwarf agreed cheerfully. "But it certainly is good to have you back. Nori's been right out of sorts, and I think Dori's set to explode if he can't find another cook soon. And Ori, the poor lad- his studies just aren't the same with you around. Keeps trying to get Bifur to translate the Khuzdul for him. Unfortunately, since Bifur only knows the older dialect…"

The chatter continued for the next several minutes until they made it to the stoop, to which Bilba knocked before opening the door.

"Doesn't seem like anyone's home at the moment." She mused thoughtfully before turning to Bofur. "Fancy a trip to the Goose after I put my things down?"

"Lass, I would be happy to." Bofur bowed dramatically.

-;-

Rorin was manning the front of the tavern when Bofur and Bilba arrived, and his cheeks probably would have split if he managed to smile any more broadly than he was as he pulled the hobbit into a quick hug and pecked her cheek before waving her towards the back, where a rather irate Dori could be heard arguing with someone.

"Has it been like this the entire time I've been gone?" she groaned to herself, rubbing the bridge of her nose before stomping off in the direction of the kitchen, leaving a highly amused Bofur and an equally cheerful Rorin behind her.

"This is goin' ta be good." Rorin chuckled, propping his chin on the counter of the bar and waiting.

" _DORI SON OF RI WHAT HAVE I TOLD YOU ABOUT BERATING YOUR STAFF IN THE KITCHEN!"_ came the familiar bellow- a hugely unexpected sound from such a tiny creature such as a hobbit. But as it was, hobbits were practically reared knowing how to use such a tone, and Bilba was no exception. _"YOU LEAVE THAT POOR DWARROW ALONE- AND PUT DOWN THAT TEAPOT, IT'S AN ANTIQUE, YOU HEATHEN!"_

"Like sweet bells." Rorin sighed blissfully, closing his eyes as the sounds of pots and pans clattering to the floor echoed throughout the tavern. Those who were currently dining in the fine establishment were torn between their conversations and chuckling into their ales as the fiery hobbit lass they had come to recognize with the Grey Goose returned with a vengeance.

By the time that Ori finished with his studies with Balin for the day and showed up, things had returned to normal.

If, by normal, one meant that a rather cowed but pleased Dori was once again puttering around with his hobbit lass taking orders and prepping food like she had never left.

Bofur and Rorin both waved over the youngest Ri, slapping an ale in front of him as the pair watched the silver-haired Dori flinch at a scathing look that the hobbit sent his way.

"Why is Dori cowering- is that _Bilba?_ " he squeaked, taking in the scene for himself.

"Oh, aye, the one and only." Bofur couldn't help but chortle. "Wouldn't believe the messes she's sorted out since we got here."

"How long has she been here?" demanded Ori.

Bofur made a so-so gesture, glancing to Rorin who only shrugged before the hatted dwarf tilted his head and guessed, "couple of bells or so?"

"And what did she do, exactly?"

"Well, she cleared out the sorry excuse of a kitchen staff that Dori's had working the last few shifts- only Bombur's back there again with her. Thought a couple of the lads were going to faint, what with the ripping she gave them. Lier almost shattered a teapot and you would have thought that it was her firstborn the way she shrieked him out of here." Rorin said thoughtfully, taking a long swig from his ale. "Apparently nothing's been polished since she's left."

"And Nori hasn't shown up yet?" Ori asked, sipping at his own ale. He hadn't seen his brother's signature pointed hair anywhere , now that he had thought about it.

"Nay, not yet. I think he's still in the higher peaks trading with the smiths." Bofur hummed. "Either that or he's trying to stir up trouble with the guard again."

Ori didn't need reminders that his brother often enjoyed riling up the city guards for fun these days- thankfully, no one had come knocking on their door in search of him, but it was likely only a matter of time before Nori finally managed to insult someone enough for them to come challenge him to an honor trial.

"And a sweet tea and carrot cake for my favorite scribe!" a chipper voice said a moment before a plate of delicious confectionary and tea was slid in front of Ori, a brief arm around the shoulders and a peck to the side of the head the signal of their resident hobbit. "Hello again, Ori. How is Master Balin? I hear you've got some translations for me to help you with."

It was like she had never left, really. Bilba seemed to slip right back into place even though it had been almost a full season since she had initially departed for the Shire.

"Ori? Are you alright?"

Bilba looked concerned, but he shook his head and nodded as he picked up his fork and took a bite of the delicious carrot cake. Despite his innate distaste for most vegetables- namely greens- Ori had been changed for the better by Bilba's almost ethereal skill with putting fruits and vegetables into food and making it taste absolutely divine.

"I'm alright, Bilba." He managed around his cake, earning a soft smile from the hobbit before she glanced over her shoulder and sighed.

"Lovely. I'll talk to you later- I see Gloin coming in, and he'll be wanting a right proper meal after work."

With that, the hobbit lass vanished again, leaving the trio of dwarves chuckling.

No, it seemed as though nothing had changed. Bilba was still Bilba, and she seemed to fit all too well into the workings of Ered Luin.

-;-

That evening, Bilba climbed onto the sturdy roof of the house and looked up at the stars, her pipe firmly in hand as she lay on her back, one arm tucked beneath her head as she blew smoke rings up. It was a cloudless night, and the moon was a mere sliver in comparison to the millions of glittering silver specks that shone in familiar and unfamiliar patterns.

"You know, you could have simply come to greet me like a normal dwarrow." She said conversationally, hearing the soft scuff of a familiar tread on the ground below. "Instead of following me around all day like a shadow."

She didn't get a reply, and to be completely honest, she didn't really expect one. Nori was a hard dwarf to predict, after all- even after living under the same roof with him, she didn't quite know what to expect from him most of the time.

However, there was a soft thud, and then he materialized next to her, taking a seat and beginning to light his own pipe in a companionable silence.

"Y'know, I still haven' figured you out." He replied, puffing away as he glanced up to the canopy of stars as well, picking out the familiar constellations of his people.

"I'm not so complicated as that, you know." She replied in amusement, shifting her skirts. "I am a Hobbit of the Shire, and I do rather enjoy my books and garden. But I also enjoy journeying, as I've discovered, and rather enjoy coming to the west. My favorite tea is black walnut, and my preferred meal is a thick stew with plenty of herbs and vegetables."

"It's not that." He muttered, rolling his eyes. "After I came back, everything was different. Dori and I actually got along, and Ori took to you like a duck to water."

"I gathered as much. You seemed rather estranged from him." Came the soft reply. "It did you both some good though, it seems. Dori told me you've stayed?"

"Wasn't for him." The red-haired dwarf snorted.

"That's fair." Bilba replied, catching him off guard. He had almost expected the prying questions and the bluntness, but then again, this was the hobbit. She only raised her voice when she was feeling particularly passionate about something, or if she was about to verbally tear someone a new one. "Though I admit it brings me some measure of happiness to see you three together."

The tone that she took allowed Nori to pick up on something else, something that was bothering her, but she cleared her throat and said nothing more on it, the pair falling silent for many minutes.

"I didn't know what to make of you." Nori admitted, leaning an arm across his knees. "Dwarves don't trust so easily to allow another race to simply make themselves at home."

"It certainly didn't start that way. I was almost run over by Dori's former cook as he chased him from the Goose." Bilba chuckled. "He offered me a drink on behalf of the poor behavior I was witness to and it simply went downhill from there, as they say."

"For whatever it may count for, I think you make us better." Nori said carefully- neutral.

"I think you make me better too." The hobbit said quietly. "For so many years, I shut myself away. Though admittedly, you and I could have met under better circumstances. I don't think I've apologized yet for that, by the way."

"I may have deserved it. Slightly."

"Still. I _am_ sorry."

"You and I both know that you aren't." Nori said dryly, looking down at the smirking lass.

"You're right. But it was worth a shot. Plus, I do feel a little guilty about it. Not that I regret it, however."

She shifted, putting out the embers of her pipe before bidding Nori good-night and climbing down. A moment later and he heard the door close behind her, and he was left with his thoughts. Would she realize, he wondered, that he had taken the fourth bead she had left behind?

-;-

 _She was alone._

 _The scent of ashes and a thick copper tainted the air, and as she turned, she felt wet heat against her bare feet. Looking down, she barely managed to restrain the horrified scream that desperately wanted to leave her throat as she realized that she was standing in a shallow pool of what could only be blood._

 _Whirling again, she found herself looking over a vast valley, covered in fallen and crimson. The air around her shoulders was bitter and cold, chilling her nearly to the bone. A weight in her hand had her realizing that she was holding a blade- short and silver, unlike anything she had ever seen before._

" _Bilba!"_

 _She turned again, only to be confronted with the snarling features of a warg. Instinctively, though she didn't know how, she raised the blade, almost catching it on the bow slung about her shoulders, and brought it down-_

 _And then she stood before a dwarf with dark hair, dark as night and bound in intricate braids and curls. Eyes as clear as a summer sky bored into her as the dwarrowdam spoke-_

" _Bilba, where are you!"_

 _Fire, fire that scorched the barren earth and careened in all directions, a white hot flame that decimated all in its path-_

" _BILBA, NO!"_

 _Watched herself as she stood in front of a great crimson creature that could only be described from the tales her mother used to read her, its pupils a dark glittering gold that seemed to resound throughout the hall she stood in._

" _Come back to me, Bilba."_

 _And then she felt as though she were floating, a blurred image of a dwarf reaching for her, fear in his eyes and his hair billowing around his face-_

When she awoke, Bilba could only recall pieces of the dream. However, she could not shake the feeling of dread that grew like a pit in her stomach, nor deny that she was soaked through with sweat and shivering.

Whatever the dream had been, it hadn't been good.


	10. Coming to Sense

**Hi guys! This will be the last chapter I get out before maybe New Years? It's a bit shorter this time, basically filler, as I've been so busy with the holidays and still have a ways to go! I love all of you so much and I hope all of you had a warm and happy holiday!**

 **I should probably also note that I may have to change the ratings later... this little fic is turning from my lighthearted little drabble into a full-fledged beast with a bit of angst hidden amongst the fluff.**

Inspired by a prompt I stumbled upon by _lateforerebor_ on tumblr.

 **Summary: Bilba "Bell" Baggins decides that she's waited quite long enough to take her mother's advice and old stories and go on an adventure of her own. What she didn't expect was to end up in Ered Luin and be adopted by dwarves! AU, Pre-Quest, Undecided Pairings.**

-;-

Nori had a sense of the world, some would say.

Certainly not Dori, who seemed perpetually certain that his only aims in life were to either frustrate him endlessly or wind up on the wrong side of the law. And to a point, the latter may be true. But the truth remained- the thief could sense the world around him in ways that few others could.

Bifur was another that he knew of- the dwarf had always had a strong stone-sense, even before his injury, and even more so following it. Despite his absentminded days and sometimes bad ones, Bifur could see the world for what it was and hear its particular songs.

Now Bilba, on the other hand, she was another. Not that Nori had realized it at the time, given their first meeting had gone ever so sideways, but over time he had realized that the Hobbits could feel the world around them and be directly influenced by it.

"A gift from our Creator." She'd said to Ori once, a small, secretive smile on her lips that had twisted Nori's own upwards as well. "We _are_ creatures of warmth and earth and simple pleasures, after all."

But then, if that were true, than perhaps everyone had a particular feel for the world, wouldn't they?

A thought for later, perhaps.

After Bilba had left for the Shire once more, Nori didn't quite know what to do with himself. The hobbit lass had been quite a pleasant buffer between himself and Dori, whether they had recognized it at the time or not, and following her departure Nori was acutely aware of the loss in the small home. Of course, he couldn't really be blamed for his sudden bout of flightiness then- he slipped away during the days and travelled throughout Ered Luin. There were many places in the large ranges that held no dwarrow nor settlements, and they were excellent places to think and travel and ponder small mysteries that crossed one's mind.

One such jaunt brought a thought to his mind that he had instantly dismissed but later come back to dwell upon- that of the small hobbit from the Shire.

Indeed, he had initially had his doubts about her. Bilba Baggins had no motivations to simply leave the bountiful land to the east, nor to come to a dwarven settlement for fun and then begin to work in exchange for room and board. It simply did not make sense to him. After all, most dwarves were rather suspicious of any who dared come to Ered Luin- it was theirs, one of the few things that they could still call their own after the dragon had taken Erebor. Not to mention that following their exile and wandering days, many were distrustful of anyone. Many had taken to thievery and fallen far below their standing thanks to their losses. Some had even gone mad and ravaged any who had stood before them.

So to see a hobbit not only living amongst their neighbors and kin, with little distrust at all upon arriving back from his wanderings… it left Nori with quite the headache for the first while. But then, he began to understand.

Hobbits were not quite so different from dwarves, really. They valued kin, a warm meal and a place to rest their heads at night. But in that the differences ended.

Hobbits _gave_.

Whether it was respect, an open door or a willing heart, Bilba Baggins had proven time and time again that she was willing to listen to them, offering herself as someone to speak to and giving gifts to those she counted as friends frequently and with little thought. They were conundrums, really, and Nori spent many, many nights pondering the small lass as she quickly found a place in their family.

He had come to like her company, and he had told her as much on their roof with the warm summer night cloaking them in gentle heat and a soft wind. Bilba's features had softened, and a strange feeling of something in his chest had Nori sitting out there for a while longer as he tried to puzzle it out.

It was some kind of… affection, he realized.

-;-

" _There's a road calling you to stray, step by step, pulling you away…"_ Bilba warbled to herself as she wandered about the kitchen of the small home, her curls pulled up into a tail and the narrow plaits of the dwarves once again decorating her hair.

She had been unable to maintain the beautiful things on her journey back to the Shire, and it was probably for the best, despite her dislike of having to unravel them. After all, there was a line that even she wouldn't cross with her respectability, and that was straying from the more traditional hobbit hairstyles that had been firmly encouraged to maintain for generations.

" _Under moon and star, take the road, no matter how far."_ She continued, swaying slightly as she hopped a step of a jig. " _Where it leads no-one ever knows… Don't look back, follow where it goes-"_

"You have a lovely voice."

Bilba squeaked in surprise at the quiet tone of Nori, whirling and nearly falling due to her feet getting themselves tangled with one another. However, she managed to recover just in time, pulling herself back up and attempting to regain what little composure she was able under the circumstances.

The dwarf in question was leaning against the doorway, his arms crossed over his chest and a strange half amused, half unreadable expression on his features. Not for the first time, Bilba wondered why they all had to have such unreasonably attractive facial hair- it tended to make it much more difficult to decipher what one was thinking, and particularly so in the case of Nori.

"Thank you." She finally managed, though her cheeks felt as though they might have been as red as the tomatoes that she grew in her garden back home. "I thought you were out."

"I was." Came the dry reply. "And now I have returned."

"Well, you should mind not to startle a lass. One never knows what sort of situation you'll find yourself in." Bilba returned conversationally, returning to putting the dishes away from their clean piles upon the counter. She knew her ears were burning, and she was trying to calm her beating heart. For some reason, this particular encounter was leaving her with a rather odd reaction.

 _Probably nothing._ She attempted to assure herself.

"Aye."

The word was said in a strange tone, but Bilba refused to turn. He certainly didn't need to see the state he had sent her into thanks to his sneaking!

"Was there something you needed at all? A cup of tea, perhaps?"

"It's the middle of summer. I think I'll have to say no."

"Very well then." Bilba said. "I might go out again later, if you would like to join me. I was going to take some balms over to Bifur for his scar. I think it's been bothering him again."

This time there was a long silence, and when she looked over her shoulder the red-headed dwarf was looking at the floor, a furrowed brow present.

"I would, but I have some trading to do later with the Men at the base of the mountains." He said instead, sounding as though he were genuinely sorry he would miss it. "Next time, Bell."

The name, which several of the dwarves at the tavern had come to call her, fell easily from his lips, causing an involuntary shiver to run down her spine.

"Ah." She cleared her throat. "Alright then. You stay safe, and try to be home before tomorrow."

"I will." Now there was a dry smirk on his features. Much better from the frown he had been wearing a moment before.

"Good."

When she looked again, he had gone.

"Honestly, Bilba, you must stop with all of this nonsense." She muttered. "Even if they _are_ all ruggedly handsome in ways that the lads in the Shire can only hope to achieve."

-;-

The wandering wizard cloaked in grey was making little progress in journeying to the south.

Rumors of the prince and his guardsman were few and far between at best, and those regarding the lost king were many. In fact, he was just about fed up with this whole business altogether when he finally managed to catch a lead.

Far south, in Dunland, they said. Two dwarves had passed through, one with dark hair and piercing gaze, the other battle-hardened and strong.

It had to be them, though they were moving much quicker than he had anticipated, considering the last they had been were Eryn Vorn.

No matter, he thought. His plans were quickly beginning to come together despite the hiccup he was currently facing, and as he travelled past the familiar rolling hills of the Shire, his mind came up with another thought as his lips quirked upwards and his mood greatly improved.


	11. Going Ever On

**Hello again my loves! I simply had to post again because we finally hit 50 reviews! I feel like I should probably do a special filler or something as an offshoot of this fic as a thank you…**

 **If you guys have something you want to see, I could probably start another small drabble fic for that.**

 **This is the product of exhaustion and the beginning of a nasty head-cold, so enjoy.**

Inspired by a prompt I stumbled upon by _lateforerebor_ on tumblr.

 **Summary: Bilba "Bell" Baggins decides that she's waited quite long enough to take her mother's advice and old stories and go on an adventure of her own. What she didn't expect was to end up in Ered Luin and be adopted by dwarves! AU, Pre-Quest, Undecided Pairings.**

-;-

"I'm going to go down the mountain to trade." Bilba announced one morning as she appeared in the kitchen, startling the trio of dwarves sitting at the table. Dori was just preparing to leave for the Goose, while Ori was free from his studies for the day- Balin was not feeling well thanks to the heatwave that had hit the mountains several days beforehand, and had given the scribe in training the rest of the week to himself and his studies. And as for Nori…

Actually, Bilba didn't know what Nori was planning on getting up to.

Probably for the best.

"You're what?" Dori frowned, his brows furrowing.

"I'm going down the mountain. To trade." Bilba repeated, resisting the urge to roll her eyes at his tone. "With the men and dwarrow who travel here to do such things."

"With what?" Ori inquired. Thankfully, Bilba knew the youngest of the three well enough to know that he was simply curious, and not actually giving her the look of doubt and in Nori's case, smugness.

"Some lace, some other wares. I did bring enough with me to do such things, you know."

The last part of the sentence was directed at the silver-haired dwarf, and the lass quirked a brow at him as he made some sort of noise in the back of his throat before turning to Ori and Nori.

"You two go with her." He said, in such a way that the pair knew it was not a request but an order.

"Yes Dori." Ori sighed as Nori snorted and crossed his arms.

"She's not a dwarfling, you know. She _can_ take care of herself." The redheaded dwarf pointed out. "And for the record, my pride still hasn't recovered from the incident."

"Such a hard life for you, isn't it." Dori huffed back, though Bilba could see the faintest twitch of his lips. "Just go with her and make sure she doesn't get into too much trouble, would you?"

"Now that makes more sense. Why didn't you lead with that?" Nori said, smirk firmly back in place as Bilba stuck her tongue out at him. "I may as well go down and see what I can wrangle from my usual folk."

"I can get more quills!" Ori beamed as the thought struck him. "And more ink, I seem to be running out of that…"

The topic of conversation quickly turned to more domestic matters after that, and following Dori's departure, the three left behind sighed in relief. Bilba in particular couldn't help but roll her eyes and huff at Dori's rather predictable behavior.

"Honestly, in Hobbit years I'm almost the same age as him." She muttered grumpily as she stomped her way back to her room to collect everything she needed, tucking her laces and hand-crafted other objects into her backpack and grabbing her walking staff. "Don't see why I need the two of them to keep me company."

She stomped back out, much to the amusement of the pair, and she pointed at them warningly.

"I don't want to hear it, you two." She threatened. "I have a staff and I know how to use it."

Ori, thankfully, seemed to have more common sense than his brother, for Nori simply smirked at her and gave her a look that told her that she would have to try a lot harder than that to get him to cease and desist his efforts to tease her.

"Oh, for the love of Yavanna, give me strength." She sighed, rubbing her forehead in exasperation. "Come on then, you two. And Nori, I mean it. You behave."

"Don't get your hopes up, Bell." He replied in that same tone he had the last time he'd caught her off guard, nearly causing her to trip and fall flat on her face as he rose from the table and adjusted his tunic. "According to Dori it's a lost cause."

"I got you to stop trying to come into the window, didn't I?" she shot back, causing his jaw to drop for a moment and Ori to snort a laugh that he fought to keep hidden.

Point to Bilba, she thought smugly.

-;-

The weather, predictably, was warm. Bilba had never been so in love with her skirts before in her life, given that this year the heat seemed to be worse. Either that or it was due to her being in the mountains. It had seemed almost this bad the summer prior as well.

Ori and Nori, being dwarves, were externally managing to appear as though the heat wasn't affecting them, but Bilba knew that while their race was known for smithing and tolerating the heat of the forges, they- and they were the only ones she had seen demonstrate this- didn't seem to keep up with the heat of the summer sun. Or rather, Ori wasn't. Nori was as unruffled as always, the smug little cretin.

"So, what kinds of wares should I expect?" Bilba asked, striking up a conversation with Nori.

"With Men, it can be anything. They don't seem particularly inclined to settle toward any one craft." Nori shrugged in reply, hopping down from a small rock ledge in ease. "Though they do seem to enjoy fabrics and trinkets. Now dwarrow, we're more predictable. We usually settle for weapons and jewelry. It's what we're known for."

"Hm." The hobbit hummed thoughtfully. "I may have to look into getting myself something in case I run into trouble during my journey back to the Shire."

"I would advise it." Nori nodded. "Orcs have been seen coming further north than usual. Blasted creatures…"

He went on in Khuzdul for another several moments, leaving Ori thoroughly scandalized at whatever had been said. Bilba couldn't help the short giggle that left her at the horrified look on the scribe's face.

"Sometimes I wish I could learn Khuzdul, if only to know what kind of curses you're saying." She shook her head, stepping over a particularly sharp rock in her path.

"Unfortunately, sweets, you're not a dwarf." Nori said offhandedly, hardly noticing the effect that the term he used had on the hobbit. Bilba skipped a step, her cheeks suddenly heating with a fiery blush she swore went all the way down to her toes. "Otherwise I'm sure Ori would be happy to teach you. Or Balin."

"Balin would love to learn Sindarin." Ori remarked, his nose buried in his journal as he sketched the path in charcoal. "I mentioned that you knew it after I started to translate it."

"I would be happy to put together some notes for him." Bilba smiled, though she was still blushing heavily. _Damn Nori and his offhanded comments!_

"I'll tell him the next time I see him, then." Ori said, finally glancing and furrowing his brows in confusion at the expression on the hobbit's face. After looking to Nori and back at her, he decided it would probably be for the best not to ask what he'd missed, instead turning back to his sketch.

-;-

Predictably, Ori vanished into the crowd for the stall with the scribing materials, leaving Nori and Bilba together. Something that was most likely not going to end well, given the odd behavior that the pair of them seemed to be displaying to the other.

"Shall we?" she offered, beginning to step toward the nearest stall to examine what sorts of wares were available. Nori followed closely behind her like a personal shadow, and she quickly managed to immerse herself in conversation with the nomadic woman of Men behind the counter about the rugs that she had for trade.

Nori took the time he had to survey the masses of people surrounding them. This market came about only a handful of times during the year, and it often attracted all sorts of folk from all kinds of places. Some even travelled from as far as Bree to see the wares from the nomads and dwarrow who often accompanied them. Most of the dwarves, Nori knew from experience, would likely be in the same region of stalls as the rest of the weapons and jewelry and trinkets were, on the far side of the market, with their backs to the mountains. It was shadier there, too, and made it easier to appreciate the workmanship that they had created without being blinded by the sunlight.

Ori was visible through the crowd- there were several dwarves from the group of scribes that resided in Ered Luin that he was speaking to, and so didn't concern himself with his youngest brother's welfare too considerably. He knew those dwarves and knew that they didn't mean his kin ill will.

Idly, Nori wondered if Dwalin were going to be here on behalf of the smithy from Ered Luin, or if he would be on duty as a guard. It would be interesting, in any case, to see what would happen if the pair managed to meet face to face again. But then Nori remembered that Dwalin had gone with the prince in search of the lost king, and his enthusiasm for antagonizing the old warrior disappeared just as quickly. A faint frown crossed his features at the thought.

"Nori?" Bilba touched his arm a few minutes later, her verbal exchange concluded. "I think I'd like to go see the weapons, if you don't mind directing me in that direction?"

"Of course, Bell." He replied, an easy grin slipping back onto his lips. It seemed to get easier every time, actually, now that he thought about it. He didn't quite know what to make of that realization, instead shoving it to the back of his mind to be thoroughly analyzed later. "Right this way."

They slipped through the crowd with strange ease- Bilba was certain it had to do with Nori's particular skill set, but did nothing more than follow as he directed. Before they knew it, they were standing in a much different area- a sparring ring was set up in the middle area of the stalls displaying the weapons, and there were a handful of dwarves displaying their skill against one another with long blades that gleamed.

"I've got to go take care of some business. Will you be alright for a minute?" Nori asked suddenly, his eyes trained on something over his shoulder.

"Of course. I'll be looking at the stalls." Bilba replied automatically, offering him a smile. "Try not to cause too much trouble- I think Dori would have something to say to both of us if we returned from a scrap."

He grinned at her, winking, before vanishing. Bilba shook her head with a chuckle before curiously wandering towards the stall nearest to her.

The blades that she found displayed before her were truly incredible, she admitted as she drew closer. She couldn't fathom how she was the only one standing before the table. The tent behind the stall was dark blue, and the flap was closed. Perhaps that was the reason why there was no one standing there to greet her. But nonetheless, she continued looking until she came across a pair of narrow daggers that looked as though they could be slipped into boots or sleeves. The craftsmanship, she could see, was incredible- the straightness of the blades was unlike that she had seen before. Then again, Tookish blades were meant for naught but one's own self defense, and only under extreme duress. Not to mention that they had taught themselves how to smith rather than learning from the Dwarves or Men.

"Is there something you needed?" a low voice asked suddenly, breaking Bilba from her thoughts and startling her to jump slightly. The tone used was similar to the one she could recall her mother using on her when she had been caught doing something she quite possibly shouldn't have been doing.

"Sorry, I didn't mean-" Bilba started, glancing up, only to freeze.

Standing in front of her was the dwarrowdam from her dream.

Her vision jerked and blurred, and suddenly, she was no longer in the present.

" _Bring them back to me." The dam said, her eyes boring into her own. "All of them."_

 _They were standing in a great hall that Bilba could not identify, and the dam was clad in blue and silver, a fur lined cloak clasped tightly about her throat. Her dark curls fell around her cheeks, and there was a pain within the way she held herself that Bilba couldn't understand-_

 _A flash of grey and feathers, and she was on a battlefield- one that was unfamiliar to her. The dam stood beside her, her features set in a stony mask of fury as the wave of wargs and orcs charged them-_

 _A knife sliding across her palm, and then across the dam's-_

Bilba returned to the present with a shuddering gasp, finding herself looking into the concerned gaze of the dwarrowdam. She had somehow gotten into the tent, the light from the doorway illuminating the walls of fabric around her.

"I've seen you before." She whispered, staring into the dam's eyes. "But I don't know how it's possible-"

"What was that." The dam returned, her tone firm. "Something happened."

"I saw things. Something. You were there." Bilba couldn't help but say, unable to help but feel embarrassed at her shaky voice. "I don't know how- there was a battle, and I _saw_ you. I thought it was just a dream before but _you're real_."

"Hush. Come and sit, and tell me everything. My name is Dis." The dam said, her tone softening as she took in how shaken the hobbit was. "How did you see me."

"You told me to bring them back to you." Bilba said faintly, blinking owlishly as she slowly took in her surroundings. Everything seemed slightly blurred, unreal as she reached out to touch the chair that she was seated on. "You were standing in a great hall of stone, and you were wearing blue and silver and a fur lined cloak."

Her hands went to her hair, grabbing for the trio of beads there and absently toying with them in an attempt to soothe herself. Dis' gaze followed her, and she took note of the beads with concealed surprise. Someone had adopted the halfling before her into their house, though in the dim lighting she was unable to tell which insignia adorned the beads.

"What is your name."

"Bilba Baggins, of the Shire." She replied, her gaze still unfocused.

"Did you come to the market with someone, Bilba? Someone who might be looking for you?"

"Nori, son of Ri." She replied automatically. "Oh dear, he's probably wondering where I've gone to. I should go-"

"You stay here. I know of the dwarf you speak." Dis soothed, standing and straightening. She would send one of her errant sons to tell the son of Ri that the lass was safe with her.

Returning to the front of the stall, Dis let out a sharp whistle that she knew Kili would hear- the lad had ears like a hawk, she swore. He was somewhere across the ring, bartering with the archer who came every time the market came to Ered Luin.

A moment and Kili's familiar mop of dark hair appeared, closely followed by Fili as the pair loped over, looking vaguely concerned.

"Is something wrong, Amad?" Kili asked, looking her over as he said it, as if expecting to see some sort of wound that he didn't know of.

"No, nothing to me." She replied, waving him off. "I need you two to find Nori, son of Ri and tell him that a Bilba Baggins is here with me. She had a bit of a spell from the heat and needs a moment to recover."

"Baggins?" Kili perked up. "The same that worked at the Grey Goose?"

Dis frowned, puzzled. Her sons knew this halfling?

"I don't know. Halfling, wearing skirts and beads of dwarves in her hair?" she inquired.

"Everything other than the beads sound right." Fili nodded. "Though it wouldn't surprise me if they had decided to adopt her into their house. She seemed close with the eldest."

"Is she okay?" Kili asked.

"She will be." Dis replied, smiling gently at the amount of concern he was showing. Her motherly instincts were preening at the results. The rest of her was extremely cautious. After all, there was still the matter of whatever had just transpired. "Just inform the son of Ri that she will be returned to him shortly, after she has had a moment to herself."

"Of course, Amad." Fili nodded. "C'mon, Kee."

And with that, the pair were off. Dis glanced around warily, noting that nothing on the table appeared to be out of place, before retreating back into the tent.

-;-

Nori was, in fact, wondering where in Mahal's name Bilba had managed to wander off to when the heirs of Durin found him. That alone had his hackles bristling. Anything to do with the prince and the guards was best to be avoided- little good had come of his socializing before.

"Nori, son of Ri?" the blond prince- Fili, Nori recalled- inquired.

He nodded warily.

"Oh, thank Mahal. I could hardly remember your appearance. Kili tried three others before we found you." The blond dwarf breathed a sigh of relief. "Amad is looking after Miss Baggins. She had a spell thanks to the heat and is currently resting behind our stall. She says she'll be sent back out when Amad is certain she's alright."

Nori's first thought was fear for Bilba- any sort of spell due to heat was nothing to be laughed at, but he ensured that nothing showed on his features other than a neutral relieved smile.

"Excellent. I'll return to the stall and wait for her." He nodded, his tone a firm statement that he meant exactly what he said.

"Of course."

-;-

"Visions are rare, even in this world." Dis said carefully as she brought a mug of cool water to Bilba. "These days only the elves are known to see glimpses of what could be."

"I didn't know that it was such until I saw you." Bilba replied quietly, pondering what this could possibly mean. If the initial dreams weren't _just_ dreams…

She shuddered.

"What else did you see. You claimed I was present, though I know not how you and I could possibly be tied to the other in any future." Dis frowned.

"You and I stood next to one another against an army of-" Bilba began, only to realize what exactly she had seen.

" _Oh Yavanna_." She whispered before covering her mouth as bile rose to the back of her throat.

Dis could feel sympathy, and perhaps some pity for the creature before her. The poor thing looked about right to faint. She reached for the nearest object that could work in case the lass vomited and placed it in front of the curly haired female, offering a gentle touch to the shoulder.

"Anything else?" she prodded gently.

"A knife. Across both of our palms." Came the small voice. "Here."

She mimed the motion before shaking her head. "There was nothing after that."

Oh, there were quite a few things that Dis could say to that, but she wasn't quite sure where to start or even who to ask about such matters. After all, with so few able to See what could come, the gift could just as easily be seen as a curse. And, as much as it pained her to think of, she might have to take the matter to the elves of Rivendell.

While she held no love for elves, particularly Thranduil's folk, she had had several encounters with those of Lord Elrond's council and had found little fault with them. Other than their strange love of green food, but that was their own decision, and not one she could argue.

"Thank you for sharing this with me. I know it must be quite a shock, realizing that it was not all just a dream." Dis shook her head. "But you should not speak of this to anyone. Perhaps you should seek the council from the elves, but do not speak of it to anyone else. There is something stirring within the lands, and I fear of the interest it could take in you."

Bilba paled, nodding as she realized the truth of the words. She herself did not understand the images that she had seen, but she held some sort of thread to fate in her hands.

"What should I do."

"I told my sons that you had fallen to a heat spell. They will have passed it to your escort, so there should be little to concern yourself in that matter." Dis replied. "But, I ask that should you see anything else pertaining to myself, I would be grateful if it were passed to myself somehow."

"I will do my best." Bilba nodded, standing.

"Thank you."

The hobbit said nothing, but the pair of females exited the tent to the brighter light of day. Bilba could see Nori standing nearby, his arms crossed over his chest and looking worried.

"You are welcome to those daggers, by the way."

"Pardon?"

There was a faint smile tugging at the edge of the dam's lips.

"I saw you looking at them earlier. You are welcome to them if you desire. It is the least I can do."

"Oh, I couldn't possibly." Bilba shook her head. "I brought wares to trade, and I would really feel much better if you chose something in payment."

Dis cocked her head slightly to take in the odd little thing. Most would be greedy in their want for dwarven crafted materials, and yet this lass showed none of that. Perhaps it was a trait of her people, though if it were she would be surprised. There were few of such caliber in the world these days.

"Very well then." She nodded.

Bilba shrugged her significantly lighter bag off of her shoulders, pulling out some of her lacework that she had gotten finished post her return to the Shire.

Despite herself, Dis couldn't help but feel impressed by some of the lace that the halfling was revealing. The delicacy of one such circular piece caught her eye, and Bilba smiled knowingly before holding it out to her.

"I would feel honored if you would accept this for your work."

"You have a deal, Miss Baggins." Dis agreed, accepting the lace and handing the pair of thin daggers over. "Please, enjoy the rest of your day."

"Oh, I have a feeling it will be interesting." She replied dryly, glancing over to her dwarf.

-;-

"You do realize that that was the princess, right?" Nori said to her as he took Bilba's arm, tucking it against his side and leading her back towards the last stall he had seen Ori.

"What?" she squeaked.

Nori laughed, a loud sound that rumbled through his chest.

"Only you, Bell, could meet a princess and not have a clue." He shook his head, chuckling. "Just wait until Dori hears about the day you've had."

"Don't you dare. I don't need him fussing over me any more than he already does!" Bilba shot back, slapping his shoulder. "I _will_ tell him about what really happened to his teapot if you do."

"That, sweets, is blackmail."

"And I'll use it if I have to." She muttered darkly, her mood already lifting since returning to the company of her dwarf.

 _Oh dear Yavanna, since when is he my dwarf?_ She internally realized, feeling her cheeks heat up again.

Nori took that as a sign that she was feeling faint again, and immediately flew into a protective panic, ushering her into the shade as he went to collect Ori. Bilba just simply couldn't believe the way that her day had so drastically gone, and wondered what she was going to do now.


	12. In Visions and Present

**And we now interrupt our regular broadcasting for some guest appearances! Can you guess who?**

Inspired by a prompt I stumbled upon by _lateforerebor_ on tumblr.

 **Summary: Bilba "Bell" Baggins decides that she's waited quite long enough to take her mother's advice and old stories and go on an adventure of her own. What she didn't expect was to end up in Ered Luin and be adopted by dwarves! AU, Pre-Quest, Undecided Pairings.**

-;-

He stepped quietly, his feet treading a familiar path as he entered the great hall that he had been summoned to. A meeting with a messenger of Imladris had been cut short when a ripple, for lack of a better word, had flickered through his mind. A silent summon, so to speak.

"You asked for me, My Lady."

The tall figure of the elf shifted, her gaze fixed at a point in the distance, her pale features faintly pinched as if in pain. Her silver-gold hair fell in soft curls down her back, and while she did not move, she did sigh. It was a soft sound, full of discontent, and not one that her heart-mate found pleasure in hearing fall from her lips.

"Something is stirring in this world- something dark in the shadows that creep upon the land." She whispered, her low voice revealing nothing of what she was feeling.

"You have Seen it?"

"I fear I may have, my heart-mate."

She turned, eyes searching for his own, and he started as a glimpse of possible futures swept across his vision for an unknown number of moments. When at last they cleared, his lips were turned to a frown.

"Something has been put to motion, My Lord. Something that even I am unable to sense." She said softly. "We must prepare."

He inclined his head in agreement. Even he was shaken by the things he had seen from his heart-mate, and he silently prayed that they would not come to pass.

-;-

The sound of metal sinking deeply into wood was a satisfying one, and one that Bilba found quite therapeutic as she went to retrieve her daggers from the old log that she had hauled back home. She had enough of a sense of them to be able to hit the blasted thing, at least, though her aim left much to be desired in terms of hitting the target drawn in charcoal on said log. Conkers and her mother's lessons were heavily drawn upon for learning the balance of these new weapons, and while she thought she was getting the hang of it, there were a few… distractions.

"Is it entirely necessary to watch me?" she demanded crossly as she stomped back, a scowl on her features as Nori's cheeky grin and wink from his place on a large rock did little to improve her mood. "One would think that you have something to say."

"Can't say I do." He drawled back, causing Bilba to huff in irritation, turning her attention back to the log.

It was then that his gaze sharpened, taking in her stance, the way the weapons were balanced in her fingers, the clothing she wore and the manner in which her hair was held back.

 _Good balance on the back leg, though she needs to focus more on the target now that she can actually hit the log. Seems like she's had some kind of training with another weapon of sorts. That or she has a gift._

Idly, he toyed with a small bag of coin he had pocketed from his most recent jaunt to a nearby settlement of Men. He thought it had been a fair trade, considering the blow that the other had managed to clip him with. Better than perhaps a dagger slipped between the ribs, anyway. The thought had crossed his mind, but something in his instincts had warned him against it.

 _No thanks to her._ He thought dryly, turning his attention back to the hobbit lass. He'd even been persuaded to give back the last bead of hers, even though Dori hadn't the time to teach her how to carve anything, let alone how to work on something as delicate as a bead.

Bilba didn't go to the Goose for work these days- now it was more tending to the home while the trio of dwarves went about their days, or reading or exploring or training with her new toys. Another thing that had been bothering him had been the princess' convenient presence with Bilba- though to be fair there were few smiths who weren't dwarrow at that market so it was eventual that she would meet one of the monarchs of their people. Never mind that she had already met the pair of princes.

"Nori, really. Do you _have_ to keep staring at me like that?"

Belatedly, he realized that he had been staring rather intently at the back of the lass' rather neat curls, her braids gone and the trio of beads nestled at the ends of her hair. And now said hobbit was giving him a rather irritated look. One that promised a fair amount of pain if he did not cease and desist in the near future.

"Can't help myself, sweets. You're simply charming." He smirked back, mentally congratulating himself on the comeback.

Bilba, however, was once again dealing with what she was certain was becoming a permanent flush to her cheeks- one that had had all three dwarves fussing over her due to their thinking that it was the heat getting to her. Which it was, in a way. Just not the particular manner that they thought.

Why, oh why, in Yavanna's name did he have to insist on calling her by that name?

It was a question that continued to circle her thoughts during the nights as she climbed onto the roof of the home and stared contemplatively at the sky, puffing away on her pipe and listening to the sounds of the city settling in for the evening. Unfortunately, it was also a question that still did not have an answer, and it positively vexed her.

At this point she was almost entirely convinced that Nori was pretending that he didn't see the effect that the name had on her. There was simply no other explanation that made sense in her mind.

"Charming. Right." She muttered, rolling her eyes and tucking one knife in the sheath at her hip and the other to her calf. Both were custom made by Dori, who had a way with leathers and fabrics that he claimed had been honed by years of crafting before settling in Ered Luin. "If you'll excuse me, I have to run errands today as well, so if you don't mind I'll be continuing this later."

With that she beat her rather hasty retreat, though if anyone were to ask she would feign innocence and blame the temperatures in the outdoors. It was still summer, after all, and the heat was wont to fluctuate a bit more before the autumn arrived.

This time, the thought of leaving the Blue Mountains didn't make her as uneasy as it had the first time. Perhaps it was due to knowing that she planned on returning again come the next spring, after the winter months in the Shire.

Not that she was particularly looking forward to the stuffiness and the names of "Odd Mistress Baggins" and "Spinster Baggins", but there were only so many fights that she could win and the collective stupidity of Hobbiton was not one of them.

Although, Bilba mused as she changed into a more comfortable loose tunic and skirts, she would admit that she wasn't quite the spring chicken that she liked to think she was. She was approaching the latter half of her life, having just turned fifty summers, and her joints were beginning to show warning signs that she didn't like to think on too deeply. Besides, there were only the beginnings of laugh lines on her features now, so she thought she was doing much better than several others she could think of off the top of her mind.

Like Lobelia Sackville-Baggins.

She'd managed to work herself into mutterings of her ever so esteemed relations by the time she finally set out, much to the amusement of Nori- though Bilba didn't know that he was present while she rather creatively planned out what exactly Lobelia could do with those less than stellar manners of hers.

Her first stop, of course, was the Grey Goose. While she didn't actually officially work there any longer, she still enjoyed stopping by for a cup of tea and visiting with the menfolk as they did their work in the kitchens.

Dori, predictably, attempted to smother her in well-meaning concern about the heat, after "all of those spells you seem to be having lately". Much to the amusement of the regulars who knew the relationship that the pair had.

Secondly was a quick stop by Bofur's to see how Bifur was doing. The changing weather tended to have a negative effect on the poor dwarrow, and his absentness was much more obvious than when the weather was more mild. Bofur greeted her at the door, looking relieved to see the hobbit.

"He's been wanderin' again. Think he wants to do somethin' but doesn' know what." The usually cheerful dwarf explained as he brought Bilba into the main sitting room, where Bifur was staring at the wall across from him, a carving knife in one hand and a small block of wood in the other.

"Hello again Bifur." Bilba greeted warmly, carefully approaching the occasionally aggressive dwarf. His injury had managed to shake some of the memories of his friends and family from his mind, and on occasion was known to attack perceived threats. It certainly didn't help matters that he had been a formidable warrior before the incident.

Not that he wasn't any longer, but it was more damaging now if he lost control of himself.

The silver-streaked mane of hair twisted, his dark eyes meeting hers and a small twitch of his lips her greeting. A string of Khuzdul followed, and Bilba looked over to Bofur for a translation.

"He thinks yer lucky to have so many braids." Bofur chuckled, his expression easing into a more relaxed one. "Wants to know who the lucky dwarrow is."

"No one, Bifur." Bilba scolded playfully, taking a seat across from him. "You must enjoy the look I make when you say that, else you wouldn't keep asking."

Bifur shook his head, a smirk crossing his features as he proceeded to hold out the knife and wood to the hobbit, cheerfully chatting to her in Khuzdul. It was the part that made Bilba ache for him- being able to understand Westron and Khuzdul but only being able to speak one of them. Westron simply was not a possibility for his damaged mind. Not that Bilba would give up on it. She kept trying to get Bifur to at least begin re-learning how to write in Westron, even if he couldn't speak it at present.

"You know I'll only cut my fingers if I try this again." Bilba snorted, accepting the offering and holding them in her lap. "But thank you. How were the ointments that I sent you?"

"Says they worked like a terrier against a rat. Or that's the version I can tell ye. The original isn't so acceptable for a lass' ears." Bofur said, his laughter evident. "Truly lass, we appreciate. Even Oin has trouble comin' up with balms and th' like to keep Bifur feeling like himself."

"It's my pleasure, Bofur." Bilba replied, blinking as Bifur gestured to her hair and started chattering at lightning quick speeds, distracting her from whatever she was going to say next.

-;-

Bilba was on the roof that evening smoking her pipe, when Ori of all people joined her.

He squeaked slightly as he lost his footing briefly, but the hobbit was more startled by the fact that it was Ori who was joining her rather than, say, Nori.

"What?" he asked indignantly when all she did was giggle and look at him as he lay down next to her, the sound of his journal setting down next to him. "I thought you might want company."

"I appreciate it Ori. Truly. But I admit I wasn't expecting you to join me up here. I know you aren't terribly fond of heights." Bilba replied gently, blowing a smoke ring skyward.

"Well, I thought you might be feeling homesick again… so I found us apples." The scribe said, his cheeks flushing as he produced said fruit, handing one to a suddenly speechless hobbit as he cradled the other in between ink stained fingers. "I know that you said they reminded you of the harvest."

"Thank you, Ori."

She set aside her pipe and leaned forward to peck his cheek- something that left the youngest Ri flushing darker than Bilba could ever recall seeing before- before putting it out and polishing her apple on her skirts like she used to as a younger hobbit.

Her chest felt warmer than usual at the gesture, and as they sat there, Ori shuffled into her side. Automatically, she leaned against him, resting her head on his shoulder as they worked their way through the fruit. Bilba could only feel content at the way that her life was turning- Ori was a sweet thing, and she already all but saw him as a sibling, perhaps even as a surrogate child of her own. It wasn't something that had happened immediately, nor had it been immediately noticeable, but now that she acknowledged it it simply made sense.

"I'll have to bring back a sketch of the harvest in the spring." She mused, glancing up at him. "Especially if you're going to start that book on Hobbits that you were talking about not too long ago."

He flushed again, leaving her to laugh gently at him.

"Well, I suppose I have to start it now." He flushed, even the tips of his ears tinting a faint pink.

"Of course. I think you would do wonderfully with it. And if you ever visit me, I'll be sure to personally escort you around the Shire and scare off all of my relatives who would want to thoroughly investigate a dwarf being present in their homeland." Bilba assured. "Now let's get to bed. I hear Dori wants us to get to helping test his new teas tomorrow, and you know how stressful that can get."

Ori nodded his agreement, and the pair climbed down and made their way to their respective rooms and beds, the house falling silent after the last few coughs, movements and adjustments of bedsheets.


	13. To Hobbit Sensibility

**Greetings, my lovely people! I am so blown away with how quickly you guys review after I post chapters, and I cannot be more grateful for your support.**

 **A quick note on the last chapter- I did my best to combine all of my knowledge of Galadriel and Celeborn (surprise!) into the chapter, and drew off of several references for how they would address one another. Hopefully it came across okay!**

 **ALSO-**

 **If we reach 100 reviews, would anyone want a special edition chapter or one-shot?**

Inspired by a prompt I stumbled upon by _lateforerebor_ on tumblr.

 **Summary: Bilba "Bell" Baggins decides that she's waited quite long enough to take her mother's advice and old stories and go on an adventure of her own. What she didn't expect was to end up in Ered Luin and be adopted by dwarves! AU, Pre-Quest, Undecided Pairings.**

-;-

The days passed, drawing closer to the autumn than Dori liked.

Despite all her odd quirks, he had come to love the little hobbit lass who had made herself quite at home in Ered Luin, and continued to wonder if he should officially adopt her into their small family and make her an official daughter of Ri. However, the more logical part of his mind scoffed at the idea. She was not a dwarf, and could therefore never truly be accepted as one should they adopt her into their House. And while others of Ered Luin had gotten accustomed to seeing her with himself or one of his brothers, it was entirely different if they were to suddenly change that status.

It left him with more sodding headaches than Nori even managed, and more than one night was spent lying in his bed contemplating the decision.

The conclusion he finally came to was to wait a bit longer- while she certainly had made herself welcome in the year that they had known her and then some, it still seemed too soon. So come the next year, when she returned from the winter in the Shire, perhaps then.

He knew it was almost time when their hobbit suddenly began her reverse nesting- in other words, mothering. He woke early, as he usually did to go and open the Goose, and as he entered the kitchen found the lass sitting there, hard at work knitting something in a lovely dark violet yarn that pooled around her, a small furrow between her brows.

"Good morning, Bilba." He said, mildly startled. Since he had told her that she didn't need to keep working at the Goose, she tended to get up shortly after he did. Rarely did he find her already awake and puttering about.

"Good morning Dori." She said absently, sticking one of her needles into her hair, which had been pulled back into a tail and secured with a leather tie- in order to detangle part of her yarn.

"Might I ask what you're doing up so early?" the silver haired dwarf inquired, going to look for his teapot only to find it already steaming with his chamomile tea prepared and his favourite teacup set out.

"Knitting." Came the short reply as the hobbit let out a small noise of satisfaction, pulling the needle she had tucked into her copper curls out and going right back to knitting whatever it was she was working on.

"It's still the summer months, Bilba. We hardly need any of that yet." Dori frowned, attempting to puzzle this one out.

"Yes, but I will hardly be here to make such things for you during the autumn." She snapped back, immediately ducking her head and looking sheepish. "I apologize. I shouldn't have snapped at you, Dori. My nerves got the best of me, I'm afraid."

"Oh, Bilba. You don't need to fret about us." Dori sighed, pouring his tea and getting another cup out for the hobbit.

"I can't help it." She replied, placing her work down and looking at him with a faintly lost expression. "I just don't know what I'm going to do all winter, wondering if you three are all right. The doves will hardly be able to travel in the weather we're likely to get in the Shire, and you have so few ravens and owls to send out as is…"

"Now, none of that." Dori clucked, placing her tea in front of her and seating himself down across from the lass. "We'll find a way. And if not, than I am sure that as soon as the snows begin to melt that you'll be on your way back to Ered Luin. After all, you certainly did in the spring."

That drew a smile from her, and the silver haired dwarf nodded in satisfaction.

"There's the smile. Now, I must be getting ready to leave, but I'll be home in time for the midday meal and then we can go out and get you some supplies to get back to the Shire. Does that sound acceptable to you?"

Bilba nodded.

"Excellent. Now if you'll excuse me I must go get Ori up. He has lessons with Balin, and I'm sure he remembers it quite well." Dori huffed, taking his cup of tea with him as he marched off down the hall.

A moment later, Bilba could hear his loud knock and call for the youngest of the brothers, as well as Nori's cranky yell from the other room to kindly keep the noise to a minimum.

-;-

"Bofur!"

Bilba waved enthusiastically at the miner as she caught a glimpse of him, nearly causing Dori to stumble into a passing dwarf as she stopped suddenly. However, he couldn't quite find it in himself to be irritated- this was simply Bilba being Bilba, and once the lass got an idea in her head it was rather difficult to get her to focus on anything else.

"Ah, Miss Bell!" the dwarf called back, wandering over with a friendly grin and bowing low. "A pleasure to see ye, lass. What're ye up to today?"

"I'm getting ready to head back to the Shire." The hobbit informed him. "I'm afraid I need supplies this go about- I'm carrying a bit more this time and a larger bag wouldn't go unappreciated, as well as some extra food in case I get stuck anywhere."

"A wise choice, lass. I suggest stoppin' at Alara's stall- they're the one ye'll want to talk to about it. They know more about fabric'n anyone."

"Thank you for the advice." She beamed at the hatted dwarf, to which he returned with a warm smile of his own. "I'm afraid Dori and I must keep going, but I'll be sure to stop by and say goodbye before I leave to you and Bifur."

"I'll be waitin' for ye, lass." He winked in return, bowing dramatically at the waist before continuing on, whistling cheerfully. Bilba shook her head, a smile on her lips, before turning back to Dori and dragging him further into the market, striking up conversation once again.

-;-

"And you're certain that you have everything?" Dori fussed over the hobbit as she checked once again in her room for anything that she may have missed following her thorough packing.

"Positive." Bilba grunted as she pulled back from checking beneath the bed. There was nothing of hers under there, but there was a couple of loose floor boards that she was sure contained something that Dori would not be pleased to know about. Not that she would tell on him. "When I get back I want to finish my bead- it still has a ways to go and I would rather wait to have you hovering over my shoulder to make certain I don't stab myself."

"Of course." he said, though he was still shifting back and forth uneasily. Up until the night before, Bilba had been the one to be mothering the trio of dwarves, but now that it had come time for the hobbit lass to once again leave, no one was terribly pleased to see her go. "Make sure that you find a ranger if you run into trouble, or hide somewhere that they can't get to you, and make sure you eat enough- I know you've been trying to wean yourself to fewer meals a day again, and I simply won't have it!"

She smiled as she glanced around the room, Dori's mutterings continuing as he rambled on. It was a shame that Ori had to go to his lessons today when she would have liked to have said goodbye again and spend time with the scribe. Though to be fair, she never had been very good with such things. Made it seem like she was never going to see them again when it simply wasn't true.

She had already gone to bid farewell to the Ur family as well. Bombur had been at the Goose, and the hobbit had gone by to wish the cook well and that she hoped that she would be able to see him again come spring. Bofur had taken it all with grace and cheer, singing her the beginning of a song he'd titled "What Bilba Baggins Hates".

She hated the song more than anything.

Bifur understood that she was leaving, but did not want her to go under any circumstances, Bofur translating that he knew that there were orc packs beginning to come up from the southern borders and that a lone hobbit lass would do better to stay in Ered Luin where it was safe instead of gallivanting off back to the Shire for the winter months. And after a long hour of explaining to him that she did have plans should the worst come to happen- running into said orcs, for example- as well as reminding him that there were rangers out nowadays, the older dwarf finally sighed and gave up on his attempts to convince her otherwise.

"Nori had better turn up again before you set out." Dori huffed, shuffling down the hall. "Else I'll have his head."

The redheaded dwarf had vanished the night before with an odd look on his face and hadn't shown up since. Bilba wasn't leaving until the following morning, but Dori was obviously not taking Nori wandering off very well, if wandering off could even be applied to Nori.

Something in her chest tightened every time she thought about leaving Nori behind now, and it was irking her to no end as to why. Well, the obvious reasons were that she and Nori got along the best, but that couldn't be true, for she and Dori were quite alike. But then there was Ori to consider and oh, if it didn't frustrate her to her wits end!

He was frustratingly charming, with the handsomeness to match, and his blasted grin and the way he called her "sweets" had her blushing and stuttering and tripping over things as if she were a hobbit in her tweens. Certainly not appropriate behavior for a lass well into her mid-life, no matter how far she had strayed from the traditional hobbit mannerisms. Her Baggins sensibilities were still well intact, thank you very much.

And then there had been the knife practice that he had taken up with her- giving her pointers and tips so that she might actually be able to use the things that she had gotten from the princess Dis. Not that she needed too much tutelage- conkers was something of a solid base to work from, and she had quickly picked up the other things Nori had had to teach her.

"Did you remember your belt?" Dori called from down the hall, breaking Bilba from her thoughts as she climbed to her feet with a sigh.

-;-

The journey home to the Shire had taken much longer than Bilba would have liked, she would admit.

And wandering straight into Hobbiton with a sodding injured leg and a pack of rangers was definitely something that would keep the rumors flying throughout everyone's smials for months, if not years. She, Bilba Baggins, the spinster, wounded and having to be carried to Bag End, inviting the Tall Folk in, no less! It was simply disgraceful, the hobbits muttered, watching through their windows as the Baggins heiress vanished within her smial.

Of course, Bilba didn't care one bit. She was extremely grateful for the help that the group had been able to offer her- especially after the trouble of running into an orc scout and warg on the plains between the Blue Mountains and the Shire, and made it well known by the way she had invited them to stay for the night, bringing out the large quilts and blankets she had commissioned in the spring and making sure that everyone in their group- numbering five- were well fed with the most warm and hearty dishes that she could prepare for them.

Three men and two women, all of them familiar with the orcs, all of them appreciative of the warm meal and a roof over their heads rather than the skies, which had begun to get rather unpleasant during the last couple of weeks of their journey. The autumn weather had begun rolling in at last, and it was such that their group arrived in the Shire a week into the autumn harvest.

"I must thank you all again for your help." Bilba winced as she seated herself carefully in her chair. "I'm afraid I am not the most graceful of creatures any longer, and I count myself lucky that you were near enough to hear my call for help."

"It was nothing, Miss Bell." Amarienel replied, dark hair pulled into a thick braid over her shoulder. "I am simply glad to see that no infection has set into the wound and that you have given us such wonderful comfort this evening."

As part of an almost expected conclusion, Bilba had, in fact, gotten into a conflict with an orc scout that had come across her small camp in the plains, and had gotten felled by a shallow but serious wound to the leg by the creature's blade. The warg it had been riding circled around the edge of the camp as Bilba had barely managed to hold off the beast, and then the rangers had tracked it to her and rescued her from what would have been a highly unpleasant death.

Her mind, strangely enough, still seemed to have not absorbed that she had nearly died, and the hobbit lass remained her usual warm self despite her injury for the rest of the journey home.

Baemir, Solomon, Jerikal and Minarea all nodded their agreements to Amarienel's statement, toasting their host with the mugs of warm cider that Bilba had stored in the kitchen.

"Yes indeed. And such bravery from yourself, lass." Solomon rumbled, his thick black beard moving as he grinned. "We will be sure to spread your tale to any who will listen- the Shire lass who took on an orc and won!"

"You were the one to slay it, Solomon." Baemir said dryly, sipping his drink and quirking a brow. "Though by all means, if that is the tale you wish to tell…"

"Bah. Hobbits deserve all the credit they can get." Solomon snorted. "Too many folk underestimate you, but you are clever tongued and clever minded enough to get yourselves out of most situations."

"But not those involving orcs." Bilba chuckled, rubbing her leg absently.

The night drew on, with the merry making continuing for several hours longer before the rangers and one hobbit retired for the evening, their bellies full and smiles upon their faces. However, Bilba could not seem to get any rest, and that which she did manage was filled with strange dreams of mists and shadowy figures.


	14. And So It Goes

**I'm sorry for not updating sooner my people! This chapter was tough to power out for a couple of reasons- namely Bilba being stubborn with me and my work and health and all sorts of fun stuff you won't want to hear about.**

Inspired by a prompt I stumbled upon by _lateforerebor_ on tumblr.

 **Summary: Bilba "Bell" Baggins decides that she's waited quite long enough to take her mother's advice and old stories and go on an adventure of her own. What she didn't expect was to end up in Ered Luin and be adopted by dwarves! AU, Pre-Quest, Undecided Pairings.**

-;-

Unlike the prior time that she had returned to the Shire, Bilba could not quite manage to feel as though she were a part of the societal group that was well-established there any longer.

At least, not with her Baggins relations. The Tooks and Brandybucks of course loved her unconditionally, embraced her heritage and laughed at the Baggins nature that she occasionally proved she had. But the Bagginses, those who had chosen to discard their wandering pasts and most of their culture with it, sneered at the lass as she re-entered their world, changed from her journey to the west.

They wouldn't do it quite so openly, of course. There were certain boundaries to uphold and not cross under any circumstances- Bilba's position as the head of the Baggins family certainly helped keep most of the rumors at bay from them. The Gamgee groupings were too well-natured to speak ill of their employer, who was kind enough to continue hiring them as well as giving them additional wages once word got out that they were providing services to the-hobbit-who-would-not-be-named. By doing so, of course, Bilba was publicly declaring that they were under her protection, and given who her relatives, it put a damper on those wishing ill-will toward them.

As she had not gone through Tuckborough to return to Hobbiton this time, Bilba instead penned them a letter the day following her return. She had seen the rangers out her door with enough food to last several days and an open invitation to return whenever they needed a warm bed and food in their bellies before limping heavily back into her smial and to her study, where she quickly put her words to parchment.

 _To my family,_

 _As you have no doubt heard by now, I have once again caused quite a stir in Hobbiton with my arrival from the west. I was travelling with a group of rangers following an encounter with an orc and warg- do not worry, for I am alive and well- though I was injured and will need some time to recover._

 _My travels have brought much thought to me over the last several seasons, and I now wonder if Bag End was truly meant for me. While I understand that it is a Baggins home, I have already promised it to Drogo and Primula following their marriage- and do not act so surprised, you know they will get married one way or another. But I think that I have found another family in the Blue Mountains. You would all love them- there are three dwarrow brothers, and oh, I am certain that mother would have loved them all. Of course, they age a bit differently than Hobbits, but that is to be expected with the differences between us._

 _The eldest would just be a few years older than I, with the middle brother only slightly younger and the youngest enough so that I see him more as a sibling… perhaps even as a son? I do not know, for I am still coming to terms with the idea that they have taken me into their hearts and their home and put up with "such a fussy creature as myself" to quote you, Auntie Mira._

 _I am not under any illusions that my reputation will withstand the latest gossip, no thanks to Lobelia I am certain, but I hope that should anything reach your ears you would write me to let me handle it. I may not have found need to invoke my status as one of the oldest of family lines before now, but I am certainly not afraid of putting these meddling ninnies in their place once and for all, if only so I may get some peace. You would think that I went off and married an elf, for all of their mutterings!_

 _But back to my original thoughts._

 _I do not know if I will desire to remain in Hobbiton in the coming months. I find that while I am able to leave my dwarves- and they are indeed_ mine _\- I do not find it easy, nor do I enjoy the thoughts of them getting on with their lives without me. Perhaps it is to do with my loss of my mother and father, but I have a feeling- an ache in my chest that I fear is telling me that something terrible will happen if I am away from them. Mayhaps it is only an overactive imagination, but there is a part of me that recognizes it as truth._

 _And to you, Uncle Isengrim, Thain of the Shire, I ask that you and I meet in person before the winter snow approaches, for I find that I need your wisdom in several matters. That is not to say that I do not wish to see any of the rest of you, dear family, but I believe that I must get this business out of the way first. Remember that you are all welcome in my home, and may the Mother bless your way._

 _Yours always,_

 _Bilba_

It was a long letter- long by her standards, given how little she had interacted with anyone following her parents death, but Bilba was satisfied with it when she sent it off with one of the doves that frequented the Shire. Similar to the methods that the dwarves took, hobbits also utilized the skills of birds to send missives and letters back and forth, though it was mainly the Tooks and Brandybucks these days. Most others used the _post_. Such an odd thing, now that Bilba thought of it. She had a foot in each society- the rich history with the Tooks, as well as their language and culture- but the Baggins sensibilities and hospitality.

Unless it happened to be a Sackville-Baggins, of course.

-;-

Her pantry was well-stocked in preparations for the winter, Bilba noted as she stood among her shelves and cupboards of dried and canned foodstuffs. She had gotten rather skilled in hoarding food since the Fell Winter, and with her luck and tenacity, she had enough to fend for herself and perhaps any who might seek refuge with her, however little the chance may be. Starvation could motivate a hobbit like nothing else, and she was half expecting there to be a handful of the younger tweens knocking on her door at any moment on behalf of their parents.

She sighed, running her hands through her hair, catching on the beads that she had strung altogether on a single lock of hair. She felt more comfortable in the beads now than she had last time she had returned home, she mused. Most likely given how her relationship with the trio of dwarrow had changed again during that time. Her knife throwing with Nori, her studying with Ori, helping Dori create new blends of teas…

It had all been so domestic, so lovely and quiet and full of warmth there in that home in the Blue Mountains. Nothing like the place that Bag End had become.

"It's an awful lot like the last time I thought about it." She said out loud, a smirk twisting her lips as she limped back out to the kitchen to put her kettle on. Her leg was bothering her- the same that had been injured during the Fell Winter, coincidentally- and she had several herbal remedies that she had made into a tea of sorts that she could use to relieve some of the aches and pains that the injury brought her.

She had, briefly, considered continuing to the Last Homely House to speak personally with Lord Elrond about her visions, but the injury had rather put a damper on that. She already planned on speaking with her Thain and Uncle about some of it, but even so, the warning that the Lady Dis had given her rang clearly throughout her mind. Shortly before departing, she had "run into" the imposing dwarrowdam and pulled aside for a brief conversation regarding what she could do about her situation. The conclusion from that had been that she should wait to speak with the elf lord until the spring months rather than attempting to send word via a letter. There were too many possibilities of getting intercepted, and Bilba had agreed that there was something moving within the world that even she couldn't quite pin down.

She liked Dis, despite the obvious wariness of the visions that Bilba had shared with her. Particularly those pertaining to the dam herself. It insinuated that there were times ahead in which dwarrow and other races would call upon one another in aid, and the information troubled Dis greatly. It troubled Bilba even more so, given the visions of battles and orcs and places that she had never seen.

But there was little she could do about it for the moment, and so instead she had gone back to the Shire to think upon what she could do in the future.

-;-

 _Bree – One Week Later_

It was raining thoroughly by the time that the wizard in grey finally arrived to Bree. His memories of the town were much the same as they had always been- a place of refuge regardless of one's race, and oftentimes a place of good trade, food, and rest. Now, however, it was beginning to close down from the summer months, preparing for the colder winters and the rain and mud sure to follow.

Rumors had followed him further and further south, and he had finally managed to pinpoint that Thorin Oakenshield and his guard would be staying for at least this evening in Bree. Now as to whether or not he could pinpoint precisely which tavern they would frequent was another matter entirely, and not one that even he could do.

Wizards were not entirely in the know at all times, after all.

Of course, he had a feeling that The Prancing Pony would be a likely option- it was the best food, the most cheer, and the place of the most gossip available. The loud atmosphere would be welcome in keeping their conversation to themselves as well. Yes, a good plan indeed.

But, just to be sure, he ensured that there were no other dwarves in the area, and that meant personally visiting each tavern in a circle before finally finding himself standing at the stoop of the Prancing Pony.

There were many memories of being in this place, he mused, a faint smile tugging at his lips as he entered. Of course, not all of them were as pleasant, nor was it always a place of safety.

He waded through the lot of rowdy folk, almost tugged into a rather persistent lass' lap when she caught wind of him, and caught a glimpse of the dwarf he had come to see, though there was no sign of his second shadow. Perhaps they had been separated, or chosen to go their own ways. Regardless, it was the rather shady pair who flanked the dark haired dwarf who caught Gandalf's attention, and he made his move swiftly.

"Mind if I join you." He asked mildly, seating himself across from the elusive dwarf lord and watching carefully as the pair no doubt meaning him harm made themselves settle back down. They would likely remain to watch the exchange carefully.

"I'll have the same." He flagged the pretty serving girl as she busied by, giving him a nod and a warm smile before continuing on her course.

"I should introduce myself. My name is Gandalf." The wizard hummed, eying up the dwarf before him as he warily glanced away from him- assessing to see if the danger was still present. A wise move- never assume that one who rescues you also does not mean you harm. "Gandalf the Gray."

The piercing blue gaze settled on him, though the wariness of the dwarf didn't leave his frame.

"I know who you are." He replied quietly, his voice a low rumble.

"Well now." Gandalf chuckled, diverting attention to a warmer disposition. "This is a fine chance. What brings Thorin Oakenshield to Bree?"

The grandfatherly persona certainly wouldn't sway him, but it would go much further in assuring that he didn't mean harm to him.

"I received word that my father," he paused, looking uncomfortable for a moment, "was seen wandering the wilds near Dunland. I went looking, but found no sign of him."

"Thorin, it had been a long time since anything but rumor was heard of Thrain." Gandalf shook his head slightly, feeling his brows furrowing. This was not the same lord that he had expected to meet. Perhaps a bit more… lost, had been his expectation. Then again, Thorin had been through much since the attack on the Lonely Mountain.

"He still lives." Thorin stared at him, conviction strong in his voice. "I am sure of it."

They stared at one another, assessing, studying, when the serving girl returned, placing a plate of warm bread and ale before him. A rather simple, but enjoyable meal, and one that Gandalf had returned for several times over in the past.

"My father came to see you before he went missing. What did you say to him."

"I urged him to march upon Erebor. To rally the seven armies of the Dwarves. To destroy the dragon and take back the Lonely Mountain. And I would say the same to you. You, and your kinsman who travels with you. Though I must admit, I expected the two of you to stay together rather than part ways." Gandalf spoke plainly. There was little point in lying or misleading him, though he was genuinely curious as to where the guard had vanished to.

"This is no chance meeting, is it." Thorin drawled, pushing aside his meal in favor of the ale.

"No." Gandalf admitted grimly, "It is not. But the Lonely Mountain troubles me, Thorin. That dragon has sat there long enough. Sooner or later, dark forces and minds will turn toward it. Whilst travelling along the road, I ran into some rather unsavory characters who mistook me for a vagabond. One of which was carrying a message."

He revealed the leather, marked crudely with black ink, pushing it forward across the table so that the dwarf could see it before quickly hiding it away once again.

"Black Speech. A promise of payment." He remarked.

"For what."

By the look on the lord's face, Gandalf knew he likely had an idea of what exactly it was that the words said.

"Your head. Someone wants you dead. Rally the seven armies and take back your home."

"The seven armies swore allegiance to they who wields the king's jewel." Thorin growled back, staring at him with a glint of mistrust in his eyes. "And in case you have forgotten that, it was stolen from us by the beast Smaug."

"What if I were to help you reclaim it."

"How. The Arkenstone lies half a world away, buried in beneath the feet of a fire breathing dragon."

"Yes." Gandalf agreed. "Which is why we're going to need a burglar."


	15. May It Be

**It's so exciting to see everyone wondering what will happen in the future chapters in all of my reviews, and I can't help but feel a little giddy. Thank you all for your support, and keep the speculations coming!**

Inspired by a prompt I stumbled upon by _lateforerebor_ on tumblr.

 **Summary: Bilba "Bell" Baggins decides that she's waited quite long enough to take her mother's advice and old stories and go on an adventure of her own. What she didn't expect was to end up in Ered Luin and be adopted by dwarves! AU, Pre-Quest, Undecided Pairings.**

-;-

"Ah, Lobelia. To what do I owe the pleasure?" Bilba asked pleasantly as she opened the door to the rather unpleasant hobbit.

Lobelia would be considered a quite attractive lass, if she were ten years younger and lost the extremely sour expression that she had come to wear semi-permanently upon her face. Her dark blond curls were pinned up precisely in a traditional hobbit fashion, whereas Bilba had come to simply pull her mane back and secure it with a leather tie these days.

Lobelia eyed up Bilba in a way that almost had her slamming the door in her distant relations face- that would be the Took in her, she was certain of it. The Baggins in her was growling at her inner Took, though it too agreed that Lobelia was not one of her favourite people.

She certainly had embraced the less formal way of life, preferring loose skirts and tunics and only rarely donning one of the short corsets that she had never really enjoyed lacing up anyway- a remnant of her mother, she supposed. And while she knew that she had come to terms with her less than hobbity ways, the rest of the Shire had not.

She cleared her throat when it appeared that Lobelia was still lost in examining her, and the other hobbit finally straightened, though she did make a faint effort to appear less scornful of her cousin-by-marriage.

"It has come to my attention that there are… _concerns_ … of your behavior." Lobelia sniffed, pushing through the door and making her way to the sitting room.

Bilba was tempted to simply grab her by her shawl and throw her back out the door, but refrained.

"I've no doubt you have." She muttered to herself instead, straightening her skirts before standing to her full height and striding after the other lass, glancing at the cupboard she'd stashed her silverware this time to ensure that the sticky-fingered creature hadn't managed to get into it again. Her mother would be livid if she knew that Lobelia had married into the Baggins line in an attempt to get her hands on some of the fortune that Bungo had amassed over the years.

"And what _concerns_ are there of my behavior now?" she inquired instead, sarcasm veiled within her tone.

"Your running off with nary a word to any of your relations here in Hobbiton, your _blatant_ disrespect of traditions, and your lack of respectability in _every_ sense of the word. Inviting _Rangers_ into your smial, and returning from who knows where _injured_ , of all things! Why, I'm surprised no one has run you out of the Shire." Lobelia immediately rattled off, her features pinching again as she nearly spat the last words into the air.

Bilba had frozen in place when the first words had hit open air, startled that Lobelia would so blatantly come after her reputation, regardless if it were behind closed doors, and she could feel the low simmer of anger roiling in her belly as if perhaps she were a dragon, waiting to be spat back.

"And I suppose that you would rather enjoy if I were to pack my things and leave again, wouldn't you, Lobelia?" Bilba asked in a frigid tone, drawing herself to her full height as she put everything her father had taught her of propriety to use. "While we're being honest, perhaps you would like to know that while I may not be as uptight about the traditions that you and yours uphold to the point where stuffy is the most polite word I could use to describe it, I am still a hobbit and a Baggins, and I will _not_ stand for this behavior in my own home."

She threw her hair back over her shoulder with a toss of her head, taking a step forward as Lobelia seemed to realize the mistake she had made by rattling the bars of a long sleeping giant.

"Furthermore, I would like to mention that I did in fact come into contact with family before I left, and continued to keep in contact with my relations to the south, of which I know quite well your opinion. You would love nothing more than for me to give up Bag End to you- it is the reason that you married into the family, is it not? But perhaps I should disappoint you now, for Bag End is promised to my cousins Primula and Drogo when they marry and settle down, and you will see not one item of my ancestors as long as I have a say in it. So I suggest you leave now, and do not darken my step again, for as a Head of House and as the sole Baggins heir left, I use my right to do so!"

Lobelia hurried to gather her shawl about her shoulders and get out of Bag End as Bilba prepared herself for another rally of verbal fire as she followed to ensure that the vile woman didn't take anything along her path of retreat.

"And mark my words, Lobelia Sackville-Baggins, I won't hesitate to tell the Thain about this!" she snarled after the fleeing hobbit before closing the door firmly and locking it. That done, she sighed, slumping against the door as her Baggins sensibility cracked. If she hadn't already ruined her reputation before, snarling at her cousin-by-marriage and chasing her out of her smial certainly would.

"I should write a letter to the Tooks and let them know." She sighed. "They'll be thrilled."

-;-

"When's Bilba coming back?"

"The spring, Ori." Nori replied absently as he worked on sharpening his knives. They didn't get much use in Ered Luin, but all bets were off the moment he left the safety of the mountain city. "You know that."

"But I miss her." The youngest sighed, setting aside his quill for a moment as he leaned back. "She stayed last time."

"But she also left." Nori pointed out, rolling his eyes and wondering how he had managed to get roped into making sure Ori finished his studies. Dori had to cover the Goose since Bombur was needed at home- his wife Ilina was pregnant with their fifth babe and had fallen ill the night before. "She left in the spring, remember."

"So?" Ori frowned, looking over at his brother, eyes drawn downward to his calloused hands.

"You're trying to get out of finishing your writings." Nori huffed in reply, shaking his head and looking back at Ori. "Admirable, but unavoidable."

Ori stuck his tongue out at him before grabbing his quill and making a face at the parchment.

"What does Balin have you doing today?"

"A translation and analysis on the elves and their arrival to Middle Earth." Ori replied. "The Sindarin that the original document is written in isn't one that I recognize, and Bilba isn't here so I can't ask her for help with a few of the words. And I know that you don't like elves, so I won't be able to get much help there, either."

He snorted at the look on Nori's face at the mention of elves, the dwarf in question looking as though he were sucking on a lemon as he slipped his knives back into his sleeves.

"I'll ask Balin for assistance in a few days." The scribe shook his head.

"I think that would be wise." Nori agreed, ending that particular thread of conversation.

-;-

" _To my cousins-"_

"Oh shove off, we already know what it says!"

"To think we are mere cousins, honestly."

"Enough! The lot of you!"

There were subdued murmurs and agreements, smiles hidden behind hands at the cross tone as Isengrim huffed and pinched the bridge of his nose. The lot of them were utter faunts sometimes, completely incorrigible when it came to getting any sort of business done if there were more of three of them in a room at one time.

" _I write this letter in hopes it will reach you before the latest scandal reaches your ears in Tuckborough, though I know how you all love a good gossip when it comes to those who live in Hobbiton._

 _I, Bilba Baggins of the Shire and of Hobbiton, finally gave Lobelia Sackville-Baggins the verbal thrashing she's been deserving of for years. And before you begin your dances of joy and laugh at my situation, she completely deserved it and it was hardly an amusing situation to be in at all. However, her words did reveal what I had already managed to figure out on my own- my reputation and my respectability are all but nothing at this point. I fully expect Lobelia to petition you, Uncle Isengrim, to sign the deed to Bag End to her. Now, as there have already been prior arrangements made, I can say that it is highly unlikely she will succeed in her endeavor, but you all know how crafty her lot can be._

 _I have finally come to a decision regarding myself as well._

 _Come the summer months, I think I will pack my things and make a final journey west to the Blue Mountains. While I love all of you dearly, I do not think I would make a very good Took- not with my Baggins sensibility holding me back. My father did teach me a thing or two, after all!_

 _My proposal is this- Primula and Drogo are welcome to put down roots here in Bag End so long as there is a bed ready for guests (and even if said guests happen to be myself). On that note, I should mention that my leg is doing better now. It still aches, but it is more a healing one than that of infection, and I thank Yavanna for watching over me._

 _I will also be hoping to either journey to see you within the next several weeks, or hope to see some of you at my doorstep- yes, Uncle Isengrim, I recall that I would like to speak with you._

 _May the Mother bless your way,_

 _Bilba"_

"I knew she had it in her!" Mirabella cheered, her dark curls bouncing over her shoulder as she twisted to look at Donnamira, who likewise had a rather pleased expression on her features. As the remaining pair of sisters on the Took side- barring Belladonna- they knew Bilba had quite a bit riding on her shoulders. The Sackville-Bagginses continued persistence in getting their hands on the home Bungo had built from the ground up for his wife was definitely one of them.

"You're just over the moon because she's decided to leave Bag End to Primula." Donnamira teased, her own dark locks pinned back in a tail. "Though with how close they were as faunts I can't say I'm terribly surprised."

"Well, to be fair it won't be as if Bag End won't be staying in the family. Primula and Drogo will no doubt be married by the next harvest, and soon with a babe after that. You mark my words." Mirabella said knowingly. "Though honestly I think I'm more taken aback by Bilba's declaration of leaving the Shire!"

The room, full of cousins and other relations from all lines of the family tree, murmured and burst into low chatter again as Isengrim sighed and shook his head at his younger sisters.

"Did you honestly not think that it would happen eventually?" he asked. "Bilba is everything of Belladonna save her more respectable nature. It was obvious that she eventually would have decided to leave, even if it took her longer to see than us. Belladonna's passing hurt all of us, and Bilba most of all."

A solemn pause occurred, and then a mischievous grin lit up the eldest Took's features as he looked around.

"And let's not forget the generous offer our dear cousin Bilba has offered!"

Bilba, who was just putting the kettle on for a cup of tea, felt a prickle up her spine and a strange sense of foreboding wash across her. With a frown, she glanced over her shoulder to make sure that there was nothing there before continuing, though she still couldn't shake the feeling that someone, somewhere, was speaking of her.

-;-

To the east, across the plains and amid a plentiful valley, another figure was frowning, though for a different reason.

Lord Elrond found himself wandering the halls of the Last Homely House during the night, the light of the moon shining down onto the pale stone walls and illuminating everything in a clear light. His thoughts, usually so composed, were scattered to the winds.

He had caught glimpses of something to come, in his Sight, and what he had Seen was causing much in his heart to find conflict. It had been the sight of a Shireling lass that puzzled the great elven lord. While certainly not uncommon for him to See other races and people in his brief forays into the future, a Hobbit was not of the usual lines, and what had been found laid out troubled him greatly.

A great mountain, looming on the horizon, smoke curling above it as the sun set behind dark mountains as birds scattered.

A Hobbit, looking at him with a weary smile, blood on her cheeks as she turned to look away.

Eagles in the sky, screaming battle cries that he couldn't recall hearing for many seasons as they dove to attack great masses of orcs.

And a glimpse of his kin to the east, wielding their weapons against shadowy creatures that continued to gain ground upon them. Among them Lord Thranduil's son, who he recognized due to the lad's visits as a younger elleth.

He had seen many years upon the earth, had seen many battles and rises and falls of peoples. He had Seen many of them, as well, and each had unsettled him to his bones and made him truly feel as old as the land he walked on.

But the one thing he did know was that a Hobbit, a Shireling, one of the people who had long since given up their ties to the old ways and their culture by settling in the west, was a deviance from the pattern.

"Ada?"

"I am well, my sons." He said quietly, offering a faint smile to the pair as they joined him.

Elladan and Elrohir had grown into fine elleth, despite their occasional inclination towards less appropriate behavior that their status wielded. Nonetheless, he could not truly disapprove of them, for their mother had been much the same once.

Though Celebrian had, admittedly, done it more politically and cunningly with her sharp tongue than she had actually going about causing mischief.

"Are you certain? You have that look." Elladan asked gently, nudging his father's shoulder.

"The one that Arwen scolds you for." Elrohir added.

Despite his thoughts, Elrond couldn't help the low chuckle that came from his chest, and he paused, reaching out to cup his sons' cheeks.

"I promise, I am well. I am merely thinking deeply on something I have Seen."

They settled, nodding, realizing that it would be best not to inquire after the contents of his visions until he had well and truly puzzled them over.

"Estel will arrive back from his lessons tomorrow." Elrond said lightly, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. "I sincerely hope you two have not planned anything particular to welcome him home."

"Us?" Elrohir inquire innocently. "Ada, I cannot believe you would think of us in such a manner."

"Indeed, brother." Elladan sniffed, though a smile was beginning to spread across his own features. "One would think you only see us as miscreants."

"I am not wrong, and you know it. If your sister were here she would likely be helping you." Elrond replied dryly, adjusting his robe before sighing. "Now off with you. I have no want to be involved in whatever you have planned for Estel. Just please, leave the fountains alone this time."

"Of course, Ada." They chimed warmly, bowing slightly as they retreated and continued down the hall, leaving the darker haired of the trio to his thoughts once more.

-;-

" _You most certainly will not be taking my sons on any quest you might be thinking of, Thorin Oakenshield, and that is final!"_

The bellow echoed nearly to the bottom of the city in its force, causing many to look to the sky in curiosity and wariness. Thankfully, Fili and Kili were nowhere near their mother at that time, or they would have been immediately participating in the rather one sided conversation that their mother was having with their uncle.

"Dis-"

"No! They are my sons, Thorin!" the livid dam snarled, whirling around and jabbing a finger into his chest. "I've lost enough of my kin to senseless wars and quests. I won't lose any others. Even if I can't stop you, I can certainly stop my sons from following you."

"Fili is my heir, and Kili after him." Thorin tried instead, silently wondering if it was even going to be worth it to argue the point at the moment.

"Because you named him yours after your refusal to get married and have dwarflings of your own, you stubborn mule." His sister growled back, pacing as if she were a caged animal. "I had thought that after- after Frerin and father and grandfather you would finally see sense. That you had finally decided to make a life for yourself here in Ered Luin."

"We have. But Erebor is our home. Ours, Dis. Not that scaly beast's."

"And who put the thought into your head? Was it Dwalin? Or did you see something out there that made you decide that it wasn't good enough to simply have your family and kin with you? If you go on this quest, there are no guarantees you'll return. And you want me to agree to let my sons go with you while I sit idly here on a throne I was never meant to have?"

Well, when she put it like that…

Thorin winced, beginning to realize where his sister was coming from. Sighing, he ducked his head before reluctantly opening his arms to his sister, who immediately moved into them.

"I can't lose you, Thorin." She whispered, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and clinging tight. "Nor can I lose my sons. They're all I have of Vili. Would you truly take them from me?"

"No." he replied instantly, regret thick in his tone. "And I am sorry if I made it sound as though I were."

"Just… allow me to think on it." She pleaded. "I know that I do not like the sound of what you plan, and I would rather tell them myself my opinion before you attempt to sway me to take them with you. And I know you'll go on this blasted quest if only because I know you."

"We are of Durin's line." He offered with a weak chuckle that was matched by his sister's.

"And we do not run from a fight. I know." She sighed deeply, pulling away and idly pulling specks of dirt from his tunic in an attempt to distract herself from her thoughts. "Please, Thorin, just reconsider this before you decide to do something that will kill you."

He nodded, and Dis knew that this would be the most civil they would be about the matter. In the back of her mind, the words that the Shireling had told her echoed. Thorin likely would go on this quest, and something big was going to happen because of it.

-;-

 _She was on the edge of a vast cliff, her heart in her throat as she clung to a branch, her hair whirling around her shoulders-_

" _You have come a long way from your home, Little One." A tall being- an elf?- said to her gently. His features rippled indistinctly in front of her eyes, and she blinked-_

 _Feathers under her fingers-_

 _Darkness as she was thrown into the side of something heavy and resisting, the sounds of a river harsh in her ears-_

 _White flesh of a horrific creature standing over her, blade hurtling towards her-_

 _And the silhouette of a dwarf, a calloused hand wrapping around her throat as he spoke-_

" _You did this."_

Bilba woke with a shriek, her hands on her knives as she sought out the threat that didn't exist. Her heart felt as though it were going to leap from her chest, and her hands shook as she shook her head, running her fingers through her curls as she breathed deeply.

Why was this happening? She had never had any sort of odd visions as a faunt. They had only started after she had gone west to the Blue Mountains.

It didn't matter, she scolded herself. They were happening, and she would tell her uncle when she saw him. She had received word that he planned on coming to Hobbiton to speak with her as she had requested.

Knowing there would be little rest that night, Bilba decided instead to rouse herself and make a cup of tea to soothe her frayed nerves.


	16. Before it Begins

**Greetings my loves! I have returned from the dreaded place of reality with another healthy dose of Bilba and the wondrous world of Tolkien. To which I absolutely own nothing and I am merely playing in the same sandbox.**

 **My updates are a bit slower at the moment, and I apologize for that. Work and stress and a slight case of my muse running off have given me some grief. Also a serious stomach flu, which was not fun.**

Inspired by a prompt I stumbled upon by _lateforerebor_ on tumblr.

 **Summary: Bilba "Bell" Baggins decides that she's waited quite long enough to take her mother's advice and old stories and go on an adventure of her own. What she didn't expect was to end up in Ered Luin and be adopted by dwarves! AU, Pre-Quest, Undecided Pairings.**

-;-

The autumn drew to a close quickly in the Shire, as it always did. Once the initial harvests were concluded, it was a matter of the hobbits deciding what products to make with their crops, and that could be done behind closed doors well into the winter months.

In fact, it was only a few days before the first snows of the winter were expected when Isengrim and the two remaining Took sisters arrived upon Bilba's stoop, all three with warm smiles and their bags hoisted on their shoulders. Bilba couldn't actually recall the last she had invited her family to Bag End- after her parents had passed she had locked herself in the smial and all but refused to see anyone other than Hamfast and his family, and even that was more for appearances than for the actual company.

"Aunt Mirabella, Donnamira." She greeted politely, only to have herself swept up in a warm embrace from the pair in question, their warm chatter in her ears.

"Oh, none of that, little Bilba."

"Auntie, Bilba, how many times must we remind you that?"

"Sounds so formal."

"Terrible, indeed."

Isengrim remained carefully out of the way as his little sisters fussed over a rather defeated looking Bilba, their niece looking like she would protest if she knew that it would actually make a difference. But it wouldn't, and so the copper haired lass remained tolerant as she gently extracted herself and ushered them into the sitting room, flashing a smile in his direction as they went.

As their presence always managed, Bilba's innermost Took began to reappear, though it certainly wasn't as shocking now as it would have been in the years before. Now, it was simply something of a content smile that manifested itself upon the younger lass' face as she settled everyone in and got to making them all a cup of tea.

She had grown since they had last seen one another, and whatever had caused it was something that Isengrim could fully support. Belladonna had always been his favorite sister, and when Bilba had been brought into the world his love- as had all of their other siblings- had been transferred to her as well.

And, before they retired for the evening, Bilba knocked on his door, holding what looked to be a small journal to her chest and looking as though there were a great weight sitting upon her shoulders- nothing like the lass that had been warm and cheerful with them for the entirety of the day.

As she explained everything that had been happening, Isengrim's brows had no doubt appeared as though they might simply vanish into his hairline, and by the time Bilba had managed to tell him everything that she could about her visions, he had turned thoughtful. After another few minutes of quiet conversation, he ushered his niece from the room so that they could both get some rest- something that they both needed, it seemed.

Of course, he had sworn himself to secrecy- such things would do no good being spoken of freely, and if what Bilba was Seeing was going to happen, he had no doubt that dark days were beginning to descend upon the world. Still, it did leave him with several questions of his own- the first being why Bilba was having such visions in the first place.

Those thoughts in mind as he settled beneath a large, homey quilt, he quickly succumbed to sleep.

-;-

If there had ever been something that her aunts had taught her as a faunt, it was that a good life was one to be lived in spite.

Mirabella had been told that she would never find herself a good lad and settle down, and completely out of spite she had done just that, and was happily married with a few babes to call her own.

Donnamira had always been the one that was too thin and that she would never be beautiful in the eyes of hobbits, but she had managed to prove them all wrong.

Even Belladonna, who had been told she would never wed with her wild spirit- not only did she wed, but her husband did nothing to change the same spirit.

So when it came to Bilba and her company, she dressed in her most comfortable of skirts, donned a hobbitish tunic and went down to the market with her aunts in tow and her head held high. After all, she was one of the wealthiest in the Shire- it would do well for the others to realize that without her coin, much of the service would be dwindling.

"It's been so long since we've been this far north." Mirabella sighed as she took in their surroundings. "There's so many more hills here. And fewer trees; that is something to get used to if we'll be staying for the winter."

Bilba paused at that, wondering if she'd quite heard right, when Mirabella laughed and patted her niece on the shoulder.

"Bet you thought we'd had you there, Bilba." She chuckled. "No, we'll stay another week, perhaps two, and then be heading on home. Isengrim has business to attend to, and Donnamira and I have our families to wrangle back under our thumbs. I can only imagine what our homes will look like when we finally return!"

"Oh, don't remind me." Donnamira shuddered. "Our lads try their best but they're certainly no Tooks!"

"No, they aren't." Mirabella agreed, looping her arm with Bilba's. "Now, darling, let us be off to the butcher- I believe I will be making my famous chicken stew tonight!"

-;-

It was a few hours after her relatives had departed for Tookborough that the snow truly began to fall. Bilba was thankful that she had stocked everything to capacity and had ensured all of her blankets were at hand in case any rangers came knocking. And yet, it was too quiet.

She couldn't help but find herself wandering aimlessly throughout Bag End, feeling as though she should be doing something but feeling lost as to what. Her knitting projects were already in full swing- a large blanket for Nori, a shawl for Dori and a sweater for Ori- her journal filled to the brim with notes and thoughts, but her mind simply refused to settle.

The sensation continued even as the winter completely covered the Shire in a heavy dose of snow, leaving many to roll their eyes and ignore the weather- Hobbits had adapted so that they had little need to leave their smials unless something truly pushed them to over the years.

For the first time in many years, the faint sounds of wolves carried throughout the Shire that winter, and many feared that the river would once again freeze. The days were spent with watchful eyes out windows and the other Hobbits locked in fear. Bilba was counted among this number- her old injury twinged frequently, and she found herself forgetting her initial feelings of restlessness in favor of busying herself for the worst case scenario. During the evenings, she sat in her armchair, her knives next to her on her side-table, her fingers knitting with an agitation that gave away her nervousness.

But, the river did not freeze during the winter, and during the early days of the new year many sighed in relief as the snows subsided and the faint gleam of sunlight filtered through the clouds.

The moment that she was able, Bilba was outdoors once again, beginning to clear the snow from her plants and gardens in hopes that they would recover from the heavy snows that had covered them during the winter. Most did, but she always worried for her pipe-weed plants. Besides, Hamfast didn't usually care for her gardens during these days of the year- only through the warmer months and the autumn.

Even so, it wasn't long before the other hobbits began their yearly ritual of digging themselves from their homes, though for once Lobelia remained clear of Bag End. It certainly served her right with her meddling, Bilba mused as she swept out her front entrance one bright morning. The snow had begun melting in earnest, and now there only seemed to be a few patches of it here and there. A lucky thing- perhaps an early spring was to be had.

It was a moment later when Bilba realized that she had neither sent nor received any word to the Blue Mountains the entire season. Blinking, she paused in her sweeping, a furrow forming between her brow. It seemed odd to think of it now, but there was no need to begin worrying now. Dwarrow were hardy people, and she knew hers well enough to know that they had likely had just as hard a winter as the hobbits. Besides, she would be back soon enough, taking with her everything she would need to start a new life there.

-;-

The thing one should always know about wizards are that they are, primarily, rather dramatic.

They're also quite thorough in their scheming if given enough time to do so, which of course is what a certain gray-clad wizard happened to be doing that very moment in the town of Bree.

Gandalf had decided to stay close to the Shire, and had decided to board in Bree for the winter- the cost for room tended to decrease slightly during the cooler months. He had already put the idea and plan into Thorin Oakenshield's mind, and with any luck he would return in the late spring with the backing of the other dwarf lords in order to take back their ancestral home.

A wizard had a bit of a skewed view on the world- rather than thinking in the present, or at a particular piece of the hypothetical puzzle, they looked at it as though from above, seeing everything and calculating the effects from certain events on the rest of the image. Erebor had affected much of the puzzle, so to speak. If nothing were to be done about the drake that resided there, eventually the darkness that was already beginning to spread across the lands would come to fully engulf the world.

Now, when it came to the final piece of this particular puzzle, Gandalf had already chosen one. Of course, as to whether or not the lass in question would even be interested did not even come to his thoughts- the faunt who had clung to his robes and gotten into his fireworks many a time was still clear to him. Yes, Bilba Baggins would be a fine addition to any company. All there was now was the matter of telling her that she had been chosen to go on this quest.

-;-

"What troubles you, my heart?"

Celeborn reached out to touch her shoulder, his features furrowing slightly as he drew near. He had only been absent a handful of minutes, but it seemed that his heart-mate had once again glimpsed something that had troubled her.

Galadriel sighed, a faint, feathery sound, and turned to clasp her heart-mate's hand.

"I worry that Gandalf may be meddling in affairs that he does not understand the consequences of." She murmured, her eyes far away.

His mouth pinched at the mentions of the gray wizard. That one had always been the one to cause trouble in Middle Earth- the others had taken to their roles well, to an extent. But he had always found the need to meddle.

Galadriel came back to herself, and she smiled faintly at the expression on her heart-mate's features.

"It is nothing like that, My Lord." She smiled, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead. "Merely that the tapestry is changing in ways that I had not Seen."

"If you are certain."

"Nothing is certain, my heart." She chuckled, the sound low and rich. "Save for the ways of elves and dwarves, of course."

She turned again, still clasping her heart-mate's fingers in her own, to stare out over their home.

"I simply hope that he realizes what change this will bring should they succeed."


End file.
